Understanding

by Ydream08

Chapter 5

Days grew hopeless. Hermione didn't remember any other time that she struggled to keep herself together. Stress of exams, danger of coming face to face with Death Eaters, anxiety for her parents, nothing could affect her as much as the dead-end they faced right now.

Grimmauld Place had been compromised. Hogwarts was invaded. She and the boys were on the run.

Whenever she slept, Hermione couldn't help but think what protected them was only her flimsy wards. She was a capable witch and had picked these specific spells from advanced dark tomes, but being aware of her youth compared to her foes terrified her.

Because what was wards against Legilimency? What stopped Voldemort from reaching to Harry, wrecking his mind to bits and pieces, locating them and killing them swiftly? Was it her wards? Sure, she fooled the likes of lowly Snatchers, they passed them by every few days, but for the real enemy?

It was not enough. She never slept well, as a result.

The lack of sleep did funny things to a person. One became cranky, irritable and impatient. Needless chatter became acid to her ears. Exhaustion pulled on her bones, sometimes minced them, ached them or itched them. Coupled with starvation, physically none of the trio experienced comfort.

Hermione didn't care about all those, though. She would always endure stress, hunger and thirst. Even the constant danger was easier to deal with…

...Compared to hopelessness.

They had acquired the locket. With a magnificent escape from the Ministry, just under Umbridge's nose, the trio had safely secured the Horcrux.

Safely secured alright, because they had failed destroying it.

Wearing the damned thing in turns, Hermione, Ron and Harry sought for an answer. An answer obscured, hidden, or long lost, more like it.

Hermione nearly accepted there was no way of annihilating it. The locket or any other Horcrux they might find.

Oh, they weren't finding any other horcrux, though.

That was when Hermione tossed to the last invisible door in her mind. Many doors had closed in her face in search for a destruction method. They didn't know how, Slughorn hadn't known how, Dumbledore hadn't left anything about it even if he knew how. Then, came the next obstacle. Where were the rest of the horcruxes?

Same questioned had swirled in their minds, but each day what they had were dried food if they had any, miles to walk to switch camps and the list of names from Ron's radio.

It was the first time Hermione had ever experienced being trapped in her own thoughts so gravely that it sickened her stomach, ached her head and constricted her airways.

There was no hope, not a single way that they saw as an option of coming out alive from this adventure.

Even Harry didn't come up with the absurd risky ones.

Hermione knew she wouldn't be a fair judge, but she saw that the worst among the three of them was Harry. He had lost much weight, his face was a dead give-away. Pale and gaunt, his sharp jaw protruded unnecessarily. More than a few times Hermione had seen him shedding his clothes, and she knew of his lanky frame, arms similar to sticks and torso from which she could count his ribs. It was a strong contrast to how she remembered him whenever she closed her eyes.

It was always long, muscular arms around her. She would circle her arms over his waist, and she would feel the slight soft belly there. He used to have fuller cheeks that Hermione took in her palms, squeezed and kissed, but now Hermione was afraid touching him would hurt because of all the bones and angles.

Hermione winced at realising Harry stared at her. He must have caught up to her scrutinizing him. Hermione hadn't intended to. It just… happened.

How could she not? Not seek him when Ron's damned list recited at the background? Not yearn for him when she knew, knew, that the slight touch from him would be the comfort she was so desperate for?

She had cried many times this summer. Before their quest to find the Horcruxes. During the wedding; when she was in Victor's arms. Even when Ron asked to dance. Much before that, too. When Dumbledore died. When Harry's world crumbled down. When they gave quits.

When Hermione said they would be friends. Friends only.

Hermione averted her eyes but the familiar sight of Ron caught her off guard as well. Radio in hand, he glared at her. When she met his eyes, he switched to glaring at Harry. Hermione didn't know how long Ron had observed Hermione and Harry both, but she knew that she was giving away too much already.

"I'll take watch," Hermione mumbled and walked outside of the tent.

She sat down by a tree, covered in blankets and opened the Tales of Beedle the Bard. This would be the umpteenth time she read the stories, the Three Brothers especially.

As the sun set and Hermione felt numb with cold, she became aware how her thoughts drifted from the stories to the locket. It was with Ron right now. It was his turn.

Wearing a Horcrux was never an easy task, but sometimes Hermione doubted Ron handled it well. She tried to wear it longer at every chance. Mainly because she could understand why Ron was so upset all the time. Because his family was in grave danger, and unlike hers, he could not send them to safety.

This was a wizarding war. Like it or not, those of his blood were magical, and hence in the middle of the war. It had been easier to send her unaware Muggle parents away, in comparison.

Shaking her head, Hermione tried to solve once more how to destroy the horcruxes. There were no clues written in this dud story book. But Hermione and the boys knew something about the horcruxes. They were precious, to Voldemort, and could be items like heirlooms.

"The diary," Hermione whispered. That was a horcrux. How had Harry killed it, now that she thought about it? Harry had said he had stabbed it. Regardless of how absurd it sounded, Hermione remembered Harry mentioning the fang of Basilisk. The diary had bled when the fang dug deep into it.

That didn't make sense. Why would a fang be of any importance? It was sturdy, sure, but what else about it could accomplish what the trio failed for weeks. They had smashed the locket with rocks as strong as any fang when every spell had failed them.

That's when snake venom sparked in Hermione's mind. She rose from her seat, rushed inside for her books and found the one for reference.

"Harry! Come here, I think I know how we could- Godric, why didn't I think about it-"

It was the Gryffindor Sword. It could solve their problems. Hearing the news, Harry circled around the table and hugged Hermione so tightly that all breath left Hermione in an instant. For every reason.

They had never been close ever since that talk. Harry had been stubborn and angry around her, she silent and resigned. Their interactions would be all business, or Hermione would be found scolding Harry because sometimes Harry indeed pushed her with his absurd reactions.

Even with Ron lightening the mood, somehow Hermione never received the best-friend treatment from Harry.

But right now? Hugging him like she remembered, Hermione couldn't be more happier. Everything was going to be alright. They would survive.

Suddenly darkness surrounded them.

"Of course, you don't need me," came Ron's voice and consequently, the Deluminator freed the meager light back. "Look at the two of you. The perfect couple. Why need me, right?"

Hermione thought to let go of Harry but when he didn't let her go at first, she was perplexed. He collected his arms without delaying it, but murmured underneath his breath, "Fuck."

"Why don't you tell me directly, huh, mate?" Ron's mockery was aimed at Harry. "You've been fucking my girlfriend, right?"

"I'm not your girlfriend-"

Ron ignored her. "You're obsessed with her, you know! You don't do anything but watch her, knowing that she loves me! I love her back. And maybe, Harry, if you weren't so jealous-"

"SHUT UP, RON!"

"I WON'T!" Ron screamed. "Here, you two whisper the solution: the sword of Gryffindor. But none of you think of telling poor Ronald."

His eyes found Hermione's, and she subconsciously took a step back at his hatred. He had mimicked her use of his full name, too. "You let him fuck you, right? You forgot all about me, just like that. Or has it always been him? While you whined for hours about Lavender… Tell me, Hermione, TELL ME!"

His roar only brought tears to Hermione's eyes. Because she was angry. So damn angry at Ron, at Harry, at herself! What was this mess? She had done nothing to deserve this!

"OR DON'T TELL ME!" Ron shouted this time. "I shouldn't intervene- you two do fine without me, so maybe I AM the useless idiot of the group."

"This is not about you, Ron." Harry's interruption pained Hermione, because she knew what he was going to say. "It isn't about Hermione. It is about me. As always, I have to save the world; no one else. Maybe you could stop being selfish for one moment, hush that fucking radio, and help me save the world. Because like it or not, this war will continue if I don't finish it. Not others, not Hermione, not you; me."

"It is about you," came Ron's rapsy voice. He was calmer, but his rage was only dormant. He looked as if he could kill. "Always about Harry Potter."

"Surprised, are you?" Harry hissed. "Then maybe, you can shut up now."

"Guys," Hermione cut in, wanting to smoothe this mess. Unfortunately that was when Ron's radio decided to recite names.

"Shut that, too," Harry said, turning to head for his bed.

"I won't," Ron gritted out. "I have to listen to it."

"I don't," Harry shot. "Why would you need to listen to a list of people who are all dead? All because we couldn't save them?"

"You wouldn't understand. How can you? You have nothing to lose," Ron addressed to Hermione too. "You, too."

"Nothing to lose?" Harry asked. "Don't be selfish-"

"SELFISH? I fear for my family. But how can you understand that? Your parents are dead!"

"GET OUT!"

Hermione barely registered what happened after that. It was all screams and punches. When she finally separated Harry and Ron, the latter grabbed his rucksack and headed to the exit of their tent.

"I'm leaving," Ron declared.

"Let's just sit down- Ron give me the locket- okay, let's sit down now, and we can-"

Throwing the locket in her palm forcefully, Ron shook his head. "No, I won't stay where I'm not wanted, or needed."

Her heart breaking to pieces, Hermione turned to Harry, hoping that he would be convincing Ron.

Harry didn't look at either of them.

"Coming, Mione?" asked Ron.

When Harry rose his gaze to meet with Hermione's, she faced back to Ron. She couldn't believe she had to choose.

It didn't need much thinking. Shutting her eyes, she whispered, "No."

Ron smiled. The most pained smile Hermione later saw. Then he left.