It was still another year before they were anywhere near the end of the war. It's possible they still had many months to go. You can't predict the end of the war anymore than you can predict when one will start. It all comes down to actions, and those actions cause a domino effect. An action leads to another, to another, to another and finally to a conclusion.
The Golden Trio had been travelling for months, searching for artifacts that they had no idea what they looked like, what they were or where they were. A ghost search at best.
They had one object. One artifact that proved that there were more. But it was dangerous. It fed off of their emotions causing anger and frustration. Little things causing destructive behaviour.
The latest event was Ron. He had been wearing the locket - the artifact - sat around his neck for what may have been about a week. He was doing okay. They were all doing okay. But the frustration of not getting anywhere with their hopeless mission caused Ron to have a meltdown. It was ugly, and he blames Harry for all of it.
"We are stuck!" Ron shouted. "We have no leads! No hope! Yet, you still sit there on your arse." Ron was furious, and Hermione actually had to cower away from him for fear of being attacked, verbally or physically, she couldn't be sure.
"Ron, take the locket off. Please." Hermione pleaded with him. Ron snapped the chain from around his neck and threw the locket in her direction. He felt better, they could see it in his face, but the pent up frustration was too much and it overpowered his emotions that were called the range of a teaspoon as a joke but beginning to seem true.
"I'm leaving." Ron stated, facing Harry, who said and did nothing. "I'm going home. Away from this mess." Ron then turned to Hermione. "Are you coming?"
"How can you even ask that, Ronald?" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm not going anywhere." She continued defiantly, "but by all means, you run along to mummy and daddy, have a warm home cooked meal and leave your best friends to finish this war. It's not like you haven't left us - left Harry before." Hermione finished her rant, red in the face and her breathing erratic. If you looked closely enough you could see her nostrils flare ever so slightly.
Ron never replied, but instead grabbed his bag and stormed out of the tent flap. He would be back, Harry and Hermione both knew it. He always came back, but when, was the question.
Hermione slumped down onto the step that she had climbed on to make her feel more superior with the slight height difference. Her posture lost its structure as she collapsed within herself. She didn't cry. She was too exhausted to do so, and she wasn't upset at the fact that he left, she was just drained, emotionally, physically, mentally, and all of the in-between. The war was getting to them.
"He'll come back, you know?" Harry started as he walked over and sat next to Hermione on her left. "He always does. He only ever leaves when things get tough. Which I can't fault him for. I would...if I could. But, this seems to be my fate, so i'm stuck."
"Yeah...I know." Hermione started, "I just wish he had more willpower to stay when things get as tough as they are, and it's our fate, Harry." Harry just smiled down at her
"You know…" Harry said, "You are my constant, Hermione. You've never left my side, better yet, you've never wanted to. I cherish that, and I don't take it for granted." Harry sighed, "What I am trying to say is...thank you, for always being there and for always believing that I can do it."
Hermione frowned but stayed silent for a moment longer, trying to find the right words to say. "You don't have to thank me, Harry. I'm staying with you because I love you." He froze at the words but Hermione took no notice of it. "You are my best friend and I can safely say that you are also my only constant in my life." Hermione nudged him slightly at the statement. "I have my parents, but they travel a lot for business. Opening new dentistry buildings can take up a lot of time." She chuckled and took his hand with her left, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. "I love them to pieces, but you are the one I seek when I need to talk, when I need to feel secure." She paused. "Odd isn't it?"
"What is?"
"How we never actually talk." Hermione said, "But that was never needed with us was it? Just being there for each other was all that was needed. Like now." Harry nodded agreeing. It was true. They may have seeked each other's comfort at times but it was never about physical contact. They found comfort in the little things of just being in each other's presence, talking about school, studying. It was the little things that count and always had.
They didn't say anything more on the subject but Harry knew that it was the end of the conversation anyway. With a sigh, he shuffled to stand up, but before walking away, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss to the crown of Hermione's head, lingering just slightly. Hermione sighed in content, wishing for a different scenario for this to be in.
"Tea?" Harry asked against her head. Hermione nodded against his lips in confirmation.
It was quiet for the next few days. Still no leads and still no news. Ron had still not returned and the frustration had now been passed to Hermione. She wore the locket around her neck, a way to keep it safe. But, it had its drawbacks. She was angry. Angry at Ron leaving, at Voldemort, at the situation that fate had put Harry in. Angry at everything wrong in the world.
As she paced around the small living space in the tent. Thoughts ran through her mind. Thoughts about what she could have done in the past to change the present.
Harry watched from a distance, sat on one of the cots that they use to sleep in, or at least try to sleep in. it was silent in the living space, save for the soft footsteps of his best friends pacing.
Harry frowned, he couldn't watch Hermione do it anymore. She needed to relax.
Looking over to the table on his left, he noticed the radio that they had deliberately turned off. It was too depressing listening to the names of the latest victims of the war. Standing up, Harry made his way to the radio and turned it on. There was a bit of static at first, but he fiddled around with the antenna for a moment until he heard the faint sound of a song playing. Harry recognised it immediately and smiled, swaying slightly on the spot.
He turned to face Hermione who was still pacing, oblivious to the music softly filling up the silence in the living space. Harry smiled again, an idea forming.
Turning up the music just a fraction, he placed the radio back on to the table and turned back around to Hermione. Slowly, he took a step towards her and after a couple more steps, he stood near her ready for her to turn back around and pace right into him. To his luck, she did. Hermione walked right into him, and she startled out of her reverie. She didn't say anything and nor did he, and she watched as he brought his hands up to her neck, reaching for the locket that sat there. He unclasped it and carelessly chucked it behind him.
"Better?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded, relieved that the pressure of the locket had disappeared. They didn't communicate any further, the two were so attuned together that there was no need for it. It was all in the eyes.
Harry reached for both of Hermione's hands and grasped them tightly rocking himself and forcing Hermione to rock with him. She just watched, unmoving. Not motivated to give in to the silly antics of her best friend, but she did smile.
Eventually she did pull and push at his hands, joining in with the slow swaying of their arms. Suddenly, Harry belted out the chorus to the song that was still playing on the small radio. Hermione burst out in laughter, having to let go of his hands to clutch at her stomach. She watched, still laughing as Harry took no notice of Hermione and spun around in circles, still shouting the lyrics to the song out of tune.
A moment like this was needed in a time of war. The little things can change everything. A smile here and there. A laugh. A joke. It can cause happiness in a time of sadness and that is exactly what had happened.
Harry, who was still oblivious to Hermione watching him, was surprised when he felt Hermione jump on top of him from behind, her legs wrapping around his legs and arms tightly around his neck, keeping herself up. Harry stumbled but he caught himself and laughed, grabbing a hold of Hermione's legs to keep her stead, before spinning them around in circles with continuous laughter.
It only lasted a few minutes, but it was enough to lift their spirits just slightly.
As the music died down, Harry slowly stopped swaying. Hermione released her legs from around his waist and stood behind him. Hermione guided her hands from his neck, down his back to wrap around his waist, hugging him from behind. She placed her head on his back and sighed in content.
Small, needed moments between them.
Harry grabbed a hold of her hands that sat low on his waist, squeezed them tightly before bringing them up to his chest. The soft rhythm of his heartbeat, securing Hermione's fears of him disappearing, just for a moment. They stood for a few moments, happy to just be there, relishing in the fact that they were still alive.
Their plans for themselves changed dramatically the year before. Their kiss, their talk, established a common ground between them. They no longer wanted what they thought they wanted but now wanted what was right in front of them. It was a dramatic change for them both but they both knew that it was everything to them. Love - true, pure love - doesn't come around often, and they had found it between each other. They hadn't spoken about love, if it was love, but again, they didn't need to. They had an idea. But as they stood there holding each other. Thoughts occurred and tension rose high.
"You know…" Harry started, "I think - I think I may - I might love you." He whispered the last part in a hurry but it was so silent in the forest and inside the tent that Hermione heard it so clearly that he may as well have shouted it. She stilled. "I mean...I don't really know what love is. I see it everyday. I see it with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. And as uncomfortable it is to say it, I even saw it with the Dursleys." He paused, gathering his thoughts. Hermione didn't speak. Didn't move. "I see it with Fred and George, Ginny and Ron, and I know that that is sibling love but what I feel for you, can't be that. It can't be." Harry let go of Hermione's hands and spun around in her arms, facing her, his eyes connecting with her soft hazel ones, brimmed with unshed tears. "I can't be." He repeated, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks. "Because siblings don't kiss, not like we have, and I really badly want to kiss you right now."
For a moment they just stood there. The fact that one kiss at the age of fifteen could change everything was crazy and now, here they were, trying to decide if it was worth the risk.
Hermione took half a pace backwards before changing her mind and taking a full pace forwards right into Harry's arms, tightening her arms around his waist. "I really, really want to kiss you too, Harry, and I think I may just love you too." Harry smiled at the declaration. "But, we spoke about this. You said it yourself. It's risky and dangerous and life threatening to just be near you. To be something more...is a potential death sentence." Harry nodded in understanding, releasing Hermione's cheeks and turning to walk away. Hermione let him go.
They said what they needed to say. They both knew now that they wanted more from each other. It was tricky, and it was messy. A wish for a normal life, for a normal romance was disillusionment from them both. But, you can't help who you fall for and so they have to pay the price of wanting but never getting until the time was right.
That night, the forest was covered in a thick layer of snow and the sound of soft hoots from Owls filled the silence. It was chilly and the thin blanket that Harry had to cover himself did nothing to help against the bitter air. He lay in one of the cots in the living space, it was barely big enough for, his toes peeking out over the end, his head squashed at the top near the headboard. Hermione was next to him, in her own cot, she too, having the same problem of the cot being too small for her.
Harry looked over to his best friend, she seemed to be asleep, but she was just laying there, keeping an eye out for any trouble. The first watch of the night. Hermione didn't acknowledge that Harry had watched her for a moment. It was too risky. She knew that the moment she turned to face him, she wouldn't be able to control herself.
For a few moments, Hermione just laid there. Not making a sound, not making any movements and just listened to Harry as he tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to keep warm. It was futile and they both knew it. They've tried too many times.
Eventually, Hermione gave up. The tossing and turning was distracting and it seemed like it was going on forever. Slowly she sat up and hooked her legs over the edge of the cot. She sat there, watching him, waiting for him to stop for just a brief moment. Which he did seconds later.
Quickly, Hermione stood up and took the one step to Harry. He froze as her hand made contact with his shoulder but relaxed when he saw it was Hermione.
"What are-" He was cut off as he grunted when Hermione climbed over him, putting pressure on his shoulder, squashing him to the cot.
"Sorry." She muttered as she settled in next to him. Harry said nothing, instead lifting his head up and placing his right arm under her head. She can use it as a pillow that way. His left was placed on her waist lightly. He was too nervous to tighten it. He was conflicted, deciding between leaving it or tightening it so Hermione made the decision for him, grabbed it and pulled it snugly around her.
Finally, Harry stilled and drifted off to a peaceful sleep with the smell of Vanilla drifting from Hermione's hair. Before long his arms relaxed around her. When his breathing slowed and became a steady rhythm, she slowly moved her left hand from where it was placed on top of Harry's and her waist, and guided it to his right that was splayed out in front of her face. She carefully guided it along his forearm to lace their fingers together.
It wasn't too long before she, too, found herself snoozing. She was still awake. Just relaxed. She'd sleep later.
The hours flew by, and that is surprising considered Hermione didn't actually sleep. She was content to stay where she was but one shift of her hips and she found herself uncomfortable. Pulling her hand away from where she had intertwined their fingers the night before, Hermione slowly and carefully spun around to face Harry. He was still asleep and he looked incredibly peaceful.
Hermione watched him sleep for a couple of minutes, relishing in the fact that she had never seen him look so peaceful. It was few and far between that he would get a good night's rest.
As she watched him sleep, her eyes glanced over his face. He had no wrinkles in his brows and no frown upon his lips. Hermione took a moment to study the scar that rested upon his forehead. It was slightly covered by his shaggy hair so reaching up with her right hand she brushed his unruly hair backwards, using the pad of her thumb to stroke the scar. Mimicking a lighting bolt as she did so.
It was torture for Hermione to see a soul so pure and light be constantly tortured from his past, from his possible future and she couldn't help wondering that this was the last time she would be able to study him, fully. So, she took him in. inhaled his scent. Memorised every detail of his face from the rosy cheeks to the specs of freckles dusting his nose.
As she studied him, it twisted her heart up like a soaked rag; her ribs felt like they constricted with the little air she was breathing in. A yearning so pure for the man before her swept her up like an ocean current, taking her breath away.
She didn't realise that tears had escaped her, until she heard the near silent 'plop' when they hit the pillow beneath her. She looked down at the wet patch on the pillow before returning her eyes back to Harry's face, only to silently gasp when her eyes connected to his bright emerald iris'.
"Hi." Harry sighed in his usual grouchy morning voice. Hermione didn't reply, but instead, leaned forward and brushed her lips to his scar, lingering for just a moment before pulling back.
Harry closed his eyes at the sensation of her cool lips hitting his skin. "No one has ever done that before." He started, opening his eyes to reconnect with hers. "It was soothing. Can you do it again?" He whispered, and she did. Hermione returned her lips to his scar and put a little more pressure behind it. When she pulled back she noticed a slight shine to his cheeks and realised that he was also tearing up. Without thinking about the aftermath, without thinking of the repercussions, Hermione crushed her lips against Harry's, wrapping her arms around his head, pulling him impossibly closer.
Harry moaned as Hermione pulled him closer. So close that he ended up rolling on top of her.
His lips felt so gentle and warm, she felt her hands begin to slide down from on top of his head and encircle his neck, as the kiss began to grow heavy. Harry hand moved from where it lay by her head down to her waist and gripped her soft skin that was covered by a large t-shirt. Hermione continued to kiss him hungrily, leaving her worries behind her, wanting more. She felt herself being crushed to the small cot as Harry pressed his body upon hers.
The kiss goes on, their lips in perfect sync and the kiss becomes more passionate by the second.
Hermione's right hand flew from around his neck to his waist, grasping at the shirt that was in the way, ripping it off. Their lips parted for a brief second and clasped onto one another once again with an adding of more pressure. Harry's hand slid from her waist, finding its way to Hermione's left wrist, grasping it and continuing it's trek above her head, where he pinned it against the pillow. Their kiss grew more greedy, her mouth pushing against Harry's with more pressure.
The heat flowed throughout Hermione's body as she felt Harry's hand slide under her shirt, brushing the skin of her waist, guiding it up to reveal her stomach.
Reluctantly, Hermione removed her lips from Harry's, "Wait," She whispered, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from advancing forward. "Once we go there, Harry, once we are that intimate, I'll be in love with you. So, for my own sake, I need you to feel the same, that this is something you want, that you'll keep me, that you want me to keep you."
Harry leaned back onto his knees and looked down at his hands in his lap. He signed, "I want you, Hermione. I love you. But, as I said before, I don't know what love is. I can't give you all that you ask for. But I can promise you, that after this war. If I defeat him and I survive, you are all I want." Harry looked up as he finished, looking at Hermione, noticing that was leaning on her elbows. "You are it for me." He whispered, "But...I need to finish this war before I commit to you. You are too important to me to put you through that."
"You are it for me too, Harry." Hermione whispered her reply, sitting up and taking his face in her hands. "And you will survive." She leaned her forehead against his, sighing. "Let's forget everything for tonight. Forget the war, forget the pain. Let's just be us, for one night. Relish in a teenage romance for the night, because I love you and I want you."
Harry nodded against her forehead and connected his lips once again to hers, pushing her back down onto the cot.
And so they let themselves go for the rest of the night, ignoring the worries of the war, ignoring the fears of the future.
But they never spoke about what happened that night. They knew that they would be together one day. If that's tomorrow, or next month, or in a year, they would wait.
But for now, it was their little secret.