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Hermione was humming quietly, thinking to herself over things as she mindlessly trimmed Harry’s unruly locks. The realisation hit her suddenly like a tonne of bricks tumbling down onto her body, a forcefield-like push against her body like she had never experienced before. She pulls away the small Muggle scissors, shaking herself as she stops her humming.
“Oh my God,” She utters the words as she remains on the small chair behind Harry.
“What?” Harry panics, lifting his hand towards the back of his head in a sudden oozing panic.
“I’ll tell you in a minute.” Hermione rushes off the chair, moving towards the collapsible camp table as she flickers through the pages of her book. Murmuring to herself as she searches for the specific section she had in mind.
“Or, maybe you could tell me now.” Harry rushes from the stool and joins her with hoovering over the table.
“The Sword of Gryffindor.” Hermione stands up straight, looking directly at Harry. “It’s Goblin made.” She continues.
“Brilliant.” Harry sarcastically spoke, nodding slightly as he stood there with his thumbs up. He still wasn’t getting it.
“No. You don’t understand.” Hermione is smiling at Harry, waiting for him to understand what she is getting at but he isn’t. “Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade,” Hermione pushes the book across the table toward Harry, allowing him to look over the pages. “It only takes in that which makes it stronger.” She explains with her hands.
“Okay…” Harry stares down at the book, reading over the pages. He still wasn’t getting it but Hermione wouldn’t get frustrated with him, not yet.
“Harry, you already destroyed one Horcrux, right?” Hermione starts moving around the table, pacing as she speaks. A nervous tick. “Tom Riddle’s Diary in the Chamber of Secrets.”
“With a Basilisk Fang, if you tell me you’ve got one of those in that bloody beaded bag of yours.” It was a joke but that bag is so completely insane that Harry wouldn’t be surprised if Hermione randomly whipped out a Basilisk Fang.
“Don’t you see?” She sits down at the table. “In the Chamber of Secrets, you stabbed the Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor. Its blade is impregnated with Basilisk venom.” Hermione explains slowly, her eyes locked with Harry’s.
“It only takes in that which makes it strong.” Suddenly, realisation dawns on Harry and it dawns on him what Hermione had been getting at this entire time with her rambles. Merlin, he should be forever thankful for Hermione’s glorious brain. He sits down, shuffling the book back around to her.
“Which is why…” Hermione starts.
“It can destroy Horcruxes.” Harry finishes with a slow breath.
“And that’s why Dumbledore left it to you in his Will,” Hermione explains, excitement bubbling out of her.
“You are brilliant, Hermione. Truly.” Harry grabbed her hands from across the table, the compliment rolling easily off his tongue as they both smiled largely at one another.
“Actually, I’m highly logical which allows me to look past extraneous detail and perceive clearly that which others overlook.”
“Yeah, there’s only one problem with…” Harry concludes.
Ronald’s inherited deluminator clicks quietly as whisps of light float out of the lanterns as darkness shrouds the tent completely.
“The sword was stolen.” Ron steps out of the hiding place in another section of their tent, his deluminator clutched tightly in his hand. He pushes the light wisps back into the tent lanterns, the tent lighting up in a glowing brightness once again.
“Yeah, I’m still here.” Ronald drawls, practically rolling his eyes in the form of a sentence. “But you two carry on. Don’t let me spoil the fun.”
"What's wrong?" Harry questioned. The tension was solid in the atmosphere.
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. Not according to you, anyway." Ron shrugged, his eyes locked solely on Harry almost as if Hermione didn’t exist for the ginger-haired boy.
"Look, if you've got something to say, don't be shy. Spit it out." Harry forced the words out of him with a raise of his eyebrows.
"Alright, I'll spit it out. But don't expect me to be grateful just because now there's another damn thing we've got to find." The argument was like a game of tennis, spouts of anger jumping from one boy to the other. Hermione struggled to keep up, her body turned but she remained seated at the table.
"I thought you knew what you signed up for." Harry’s body language changed as the atmosphere increased with the tension.
"Yeah, I thought I did too."
"Well, look, I'm sorry but I don't quite understand." Harry pushes himself up using the table as he scoops his legs over the bench. “What part of this isn’t living up to your expectations?” The boys were now standing opposite one another, tension crippling as Hermione slowly got up and walked away from the table. She stopped beside the bench, watching the continuous back-and-forth argument between the two. "Did you think we were going to be staying in a five-star hotel? Finding a Horcrux every other day. You thought you'd be back with your mum by Christmas?" Harry’s eyebrows are raised, waiting for Ronald’s response.
"I just thought after all this time, we would have actually achieved something," Ron shouted, his voice booming through the tent.
Hermione stands beside Harry, staring at Ron in astonishment. She was so unaware of who this person was standing before her. This wasn’t the boy that she had grown up with. This wasn’t the boy that she thought a crush had been developing for.
Something had changed about Ronald ever since he accidentally got spliced while the trio left the Ministry in a hurry. While Hermione had done everything she could have to the wound at that current moment; she felt as though there was still a hint or atmosphere of resentment coming from the ginger.
"I thought you knew what you were doing. I thought Dumbledore would have told you something worthwhile. I thought you had a plan!" Ronald kept shouting at Harry. He was getting angrier and angrier, he wasn’t calming down. His temper matched the shade of his unwashed ginger locks.
"I told you everything Dumbledore told me, and in case you haven't noticed we have found a Horcrux already." Harry stuns the ginger. Anger was bouncing between them like a small ball of energy.
"Yeah, and we're about as close to getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them, aren't we?" Ron rolls his eyes, his fist clenched down by his side.
Hermione moves swiftly in front of Ronald. "Ron, please take the Horcrux off." Her voice was clearly upset and affected by everything that the two boys had been spewing at each other, her hurt visible on her face. She tries grabbing the Horcrux, trying to force it off of Ron’s body but he was having none of it.
Ron pushes her aside, his eyes remaining glued to Harry, right through Hermione while she is still trying to tangle the Horcrux off of him.
"You wouldn't be saying any of this if you hadn't been wearing it all day." Hermione sobbed.
Ron continued to completely ignore her. His eyes were on fire.
"Do you want to know why I listen to that radio every night, do you? To make sure I don't hear Ginny's name. Or Fred. Or George. Or Mum." His hands are shaking as his voice cracks with the fleeting options that are flying in and out of Ron’s body. The Horcrux had been taking over the control over his body and Hermione had seen nothing like it.
The locket had destroyed one of her best friends.
"You think I'm not listening too? You think I don't know how this feels?" Harry’s hands were also shaking, and his whole body was wracked with emotions are he too watched his best friend be destroyed by the presence of Voldemort so close to his heart.
"No, you don't know how it feels. Your parents are dead, you have no family." Ronald roared.
Hermione was distraught, staring at a boy she thought she loved but she was watching him change in front of her. It sent those final moments of friendship quickly fleeting away. He wasn’t the same person that she had grown up with.
That Ronald Weasley had gone.
Harry leapt forward. The two boys scuffled with one another, it looked pathetic but it was an overwhelming bubbling of the emotions that had filled the space between them.
"Stop! Stop!" Hermione commands.
"Fine, then go! Go then." Harry pushes him, grinding his teeth as he pants.
His body stretched elastic, waiting to be released, buzzing with adrenaline, panting breaths leaving his lips as he shucks the Horcrux off of his neck, throwing it down at the ground with a hump of a breath.
“Ron,” Hermione begs.
Ron continues collecting his things from around the tent, stuffing them in a backpack with no care for stopping to fold them.
He stops. "And you? Are you coming or are you staying?" Ron stares between the two others as Hermione doesn't give an answer straight away, almost stuttering for the right response that won’t set off the anger once again. "Fine. I get it. I saw you two the other night."
"Ron, t—that's nothing." Hermione shakes her head, stuttering.
Ron swiftly leaves the tent with one final heavy sigh, anger still buzzing in the atmosphere.
"Ron!" Hermione calls after him before deciding to rush after him. "Ron, where are you going? Please come back. Ron. Ron!" Hermione screams. Harry stares around the tent, nervously fiddling with his fingers as he listens to Hermione’s distress.
The sound of apparition rings through the fabric. The noise echoed through the forest.
He was gone.
Hermione’s body was emotionally wiped out, almost as if she had lost a lover. However, she scolded herself. Reminding herself that Ronald was a friend. That was all he had been. And all he had ever been to her.
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Hermione hugs her knees close to her chest, leaning her head heavily atop her hands as she stares at the old Muggle radio. Listening to Potterwatch as she stays aware of any mention of Ron’s name, even if she knew her friend had disappeared from the one she remembered. The Horcrux locket buzzes with electricity against her chest as she shivers in a light grey and blue plaid shirt that she had borrowed from Harry.
“‘Mione,” Harry’s voice broke through the radio static.
Pass me that lovely little gun.
My dear, my darling one.
She looks at him, her face holding a shield of her true emotions.
The cleaners are coming, one by one.
You don't even want to let them start.
“Dance with me, Hermione.” He whispers.
She nods reluctantly as he grabs her hands slowly and guides her until they are standing opposite one another. Harry unclips the locket from around her neck, placing it carefully down on the stool beside the radio. He starts to move their hands, moving them both to the music as he testingly smiles at her.
They're knocking now upon your door.
They measure the room, they know the score.
They're mopping up the butcher's floor.
Of your broken little hearts.
Shimmying.
They're knocking now upon your door.
They measure the room, they know the score.
They're mopping up the butcher's floor.
Of your broken little hearts.
Messing around, making each other smile and laugh.
Forgive us now for what we've done.
It started out as a bit of fun.
Here, take these before we run away.
The keys to the gulag.
Twirls of each other.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on.
Here comes Frank and poor old Jim.
They're gathering round with all my friends.
We're older now, and the light is dim.
And you are only just beginning.
They spin around as Hermione slowly starts smiling.
Oh, children.
We have the answer to all your fears.
They move closer, holding hands like a normal dance would begin as they sway together. Hermione giggles quietly in Harry’s chest, at his godawful dancing but he was trying.
It's short, it's simple, it's crystal clear.
It's roundabout and it's somewhere here.
Lost amongst our winnings.
Hermione and Harry continue dancing together, hugged together with their heads resting on the opposite person’s shoulder as the music drowns on in the background. She smiles, holding herself closer to Harry as they remain swaying in each other’s arms.
The cleaners have done their job on you.
They're hip to it, man, they're in the groove.
“Thank you, Harry.” Hermione mumbles, moving to pull away slowly but carefully placing a simple peck on his cheek as she allows herself to step back properly. They are still holding hands but Harry is looking at her in a different light.
They've hosed you down, you're good as new.
And they're lining up to inspect you.
He pants, staring at her. Harry cups his cheek, brushing his thumb against the spot where Hermione had just kissed him. “Hermione?” He stares at her, still brushing his cheek before rushing forward and grabbing her face.
Oh, children.
Poor old Jim's white as a ghost.
Harry waited for just a second before smashing his lips against hers, muffling a noise that sounded similar to a whimper.
He's found the answer that we lost.
We're all weeping now, weeping because.
There ain't nothing we can do to protect you.
“Hermione.” He moaned into the kiss, pushing everything and more into the one kiss as if this was the only chance he would get with her. He had waited so long for this, he just hadn’t realised.
We're happy, Ma, we're having fun.
And the train ain't even left the station.
While the kiss had been rough and aggressive, a battle for dominance, the movements back towards the transfigured bed — had been a crappy bunk bed and is now a crappy double bed — were gentle and careful.
And have you left a seat for me?
Is that such a stretch of the imagination?
Harry slowly unbuttoned the plaid shirt and carefully pushed it off her chest as he kissed the freckles decorating her breasts. He smiled with every single press of adoration into her skin, making sure she knew that she was worshipped. It allowed the two of them a moment to forget about the ongoing war and search for Horcruxes.
I'm hanging in there, don't you see?
In this process of elimination.
“Harry,” Hermione moaned, dragging her fingers through his hair and using her grip to pull his lips back to hers.
“Hermione,” Harry’s groans mixed with her noises.
“Harry,” She whimpered.
We're happy, Ma, we're having fun (children).
It's beyond my wildest expectation (oh, children).
Their naked forms moved slowly against each other, gentle strokes of hands moving lower down until Hermione granted permission as Harry carefully entered her warmth. His face was buried in her neck, hiding the moans that were slipping from his lips. Passion was present between them in a way that he hadn’t thought possible.
It was gentle.
Slow.
Harry dragged pleasure from her. Hermione dragged pleasure from him.
Love flows through them as a push and circle of the pad of his thumb against her clit sends her fluttering towards that orgasm that swiftly forced Harry to follow in the same end goal.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, cuddling her naked form to his chest. He wrapped the two of them in the blankets and held her closer.
Hermione nods, kissing Harry’s chest and snuggling her face close.
“Perfect.” Hermione mumbles, falling to sleep and able to feel safe for the first time in months.
We're happy, Ma, we're having fun.
The train ain't even left the station (oh, children).
(Hey, little train, wait for me).
(I once was blind but now I see).
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