Author's Note: Originally written as a spur-of-the-moment drabble on the HMS Harmony Discord on Jan. 20, 2023. Cleaned up and posted on Oct. 14, 2023. Angsty fluff.

Chapter 20: Five years post-canon, at Hogwarts, in which Harry contemplates his past and future, and Hermione comforts him.

Originally posted: Oct. 14, 2023

Words: 457

Rated: K+

Enjoy!

Stay With Me?

Harry sometimes feels, well, nostalgic for the war.

Not just the war, or the Horcrux Hunt with Hermione and Ron. It feels like every waking moment of his life since that fateful Halloween night when his parents died, Harry's life had been one shitty thing leading to another. And then it just suddenly... stopped.

In the years after Voldemort's defeat and the Wizardry World began to mend wounds and make changes, Harry finds himself... restless. He fights Death Eaters, but they're child's play now that their leader has been checkmated. He adjusts and assimilates well enough... On the surface.

"It feels ... fake, sometimes," he confesses to Hermione once, staring off at the Hogwarts grounds. They were visiting for the annual memorial on the anniversary of the climactic Battle of Hogwarts, and after the pomp and circumstance, surviving alumni often wandered the mended corridors of their old school. Harry and Hermione stand now on the balcony of the Astronomy Tower, surveying a sunset not unlike the one they had witnessed together at the end of their Sixth Year, deciding to hunt Horcruxes as a team.

Hermione looks up at Harry, her brow furrowing slightly. "Fake?" she echoes.

"Everything. The war. Voldemort. Horcruxes. Basilisks, giants, the Triwizard Tournament. Even my old cupboard. It's like a dream now, and I should be glad, except I'm not. Life was... Simpler."

"Oh, Harry..."

"Did it really happen?"

"Yes, Harry." Hermione's throat constricts. She knows that Harry knows, but it doesn't make her heart ache any less. The war had been over for five years.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry turns to look at her, his eyes bright, reminding her vividly of the scrawny First Year boy she met aboard the Hogwarts Express all those years ago.

Harry continues, his voice hoarse with grief.

"It was easy - disgustingly easy - to survive. Surviving is just 'I make this choice and there's a chance I might survive' or 'if I don't make this choice, I will most definitely die.' How do you move from that? How do you live day to day?"

Hermione takes a shuddering breath. "I- I don't think there's a right or wrong answer."

Harry gazes at her for a few seconds, as if waiting for elaboration. Hermione can't help but chuckle mirthlessly.

"Sorry, Harry, but life isn't something you can borrow my notes from."

Harry grins at the irony, then exhales deeply, closing his eyes as the sun's last rays soak over his face. His hand reaches sideways, and Hermione takes it instantly, interweaving their fingers, their palms warm and fitting together perfectly.

Harry whispers, "Can you just... stay by my side? While I figure out this Life thing?"

Hermione's heart breaks and swells with love.

"Always, Harry."