Harry

On the run, in a Forrest

December 25th 1997

It had been over two weeks since Ron left, Harry noted glancing around the tent, taking in the perpetual state of dismay that Ron had left in his wake.

The minute his best friend abandoned them, Harry's emotions exploded. Absolute rage ruptured out of him in a primal scream until he thought his throat may bleed.

When Hermione returned, tears flowing down her cheeks, Harry knew that Ron was gone.

But facing the reality that Ron was gone had flipped his rage to numb disbelief.

Hermione's crashed into him, crying against his chest. With each new sob, Harry's emotions loosened into shame. He should have never let an argument get that out of control. And even if Ron was being a twat, it was no excuse to lose a handle on the situation. It was his mission, and he was responsible for this two friends.

Days after Ron's departure, Hermione was not much improved. She wandered the tent like a mute zombie.

At first Harry tried to talk to her about Ron leaving, but her only response was a blank stare. In more desperate times, Harry attempted to lure her with topics like her favorite book, or what her thoughts were on house elf rights, hoping she would forget she was devastated and talk to him once again. But still, nothing.

It wasn't clear to Harry why Ron's departure broke Hermione so severely. He couldn't tell if her reaction was tied to some deeper romantic feelings for Ron, or if this reaction was merely because one of her closest friends betrayed her.

Harry wondered at one point what he might have done if Ginny abandoned his fraught mission.

A reluctant smile pulled at his lips, knowing without a doubt Ginny would never leave. She would berate him to stop being a git, and to pull his head out of his arse and actually lead them. But she wouldn't leave.

Ron was different though, Harry thought, now getting up from his bed to sit somewhere else in the tent, doing anything to feel productive.

His best friend was not a bad person; Harry believed this with every fiber of his heart. Ron was just different. No one was more sensitive than him, Harry reasoned, and it was clear the effects of the Horcrux impaired Ron more it did himself. Strangely, it was only Hermione that would not lash out at her companions when needing to guard the piece of Voldamort's soul.

She was the best of them, Harry concluded as he looked over to Hermione now sitting at the small table near the center of the tent, a flickering oil lantern dimly lighting her face.

Her small frame was hunched over something, which piqued Harry's interest and he rose to investigate. Once around the table, he found that she was blankly staring down into an open locket.

It wasn't the Horocrux, though Harry thought for a split second it may be, and that Hermione had become possessed. No, it was not that cursed locket. It was something much smaller.

At that moment it occurred to him that Hermione had worn this locket ever since they were on the run and he had never thought to ask about it.

"What's that?" Harry asked softly, gesturing to the locket she held.

Hermione looked up in a daze, and then back down to the locket. Harry could see a picture on one side of it's open case.

"I found this at my parents house when I went to obliviate them," Hermione said, sounding defeated. "It's a picture of us on Christmas, we…"

Hermione's voice hitched as she looked down at the picture. Harry came closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to comfort her, but then realized that she wasn't about to cry. Instead, her eyes were screwed up in frustration.

"My parents and I had this tradition over Christmas. Each holiday we'd go somewhere with heaps of snow, and we'd make a Christmas snowman," Hermione explained, her expression softening.

It made Harry smile. To hear of easier times was always welcome, but to just hear Hermione voice was a relief.

A choked sob ruptured out of his friend. Harry realized that in the split second his attention drifted, she started to cry.

"'Moine, what's wrong?" Harry came over to where she sat, sitting near her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She said nothing, but her shoulders quivered trying to fight off whatever hit her.

Harry looked to his friend in distraught helplessness. All of this was his fault, and despite how angry he was at Ron, he didn't blame him for abandoning them. Harry had no clue what they were suppose to do, and it tore at him that his inept leadership made one of his closest friends feel like this.

"I'm so sorry, about all of this. This isn't fair to you…" Harry began to say, but Hermione's eyes cleared momentarily, narrowing critically on Harry.

"What are you talking about Harry?" Hermione questioned, looking at him for a moment longer. When she realized it was about the mission, she shook her head with purpose.

"Harry, listen to me. We are all in this together. This is not just your war, or your burden. I am not upset with you that Ron left, or that any of this is hard," Hermione said clear of emotion.

Her eyes searched his for recognition, that he understood the roles they all played in this war. When she couldn't find it, she went on.

"Harry, you have to understand that it's not just your war. It will put everyone in jeopardy if you don't. This is bigger than all of us individually."

Harry kept his eyes trained on Hermione's as they bore into his. Wordlessly she begged him to accept what she said. Eventually, Harry nodded in acceptance.

Her shoulders relaxed once she felt he understood. With that settled, she turned back to the locket, looking upon it sadly. Harry was tempted to ask, but Hermione offered insight unprompted.

"Harry, I am upset because I feel like I'm going crazy," Hermione muttered, still looking down at the locket.

Fresh, silent tears made their way down Hermione's cheek. Harry pulled her in for a tight side hug as she continued.

"I just," she started, sniffling with new words. "I don't know. That's the problem Harry! I know something is wrong, I feel it so deeply, but I don't know what it is."

Harry stilled. "What do you mean?"

Hermione shook her head, wiping tears away with the back of her palm. "It's this feeling I have. It's so overpowering. It's like living every waking moment having just woken up from a dream that felt so vivid and then not being able to remember it."

Harry nodded. He was at a loss of what to say.

She looked down again at her locket, and through the tears, she was able to smile faintly.

"Don't worry about me Harry. Everything about this is difficult, but what we're fighting for is the right thing." Hermione nodded resolutely, now looking up at Harry.

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder when she saw the concern painted on his face. "We've already made the choice to do this. That was the hardest part."

Harry looked at his friend and felt unending gratitude for the moment during his first year that she happened to barge into his carriage on the Hogwarts express.

She was by far the best of them.