Another night, another day goes by with Ron gone off. Another night in which Harry heard her, crying almost silently. He always takes the night shift, because she needs all the rest she can get. He is used to this; he’s used to getting little sleep, used to functioning automatically. His body was conditioned for this. It was as though Dumbledore had known that he needed to be moulded into a person who could withstand hunger and cold, a person who could deal with an uncomfortable life. Maybe his life at the Dursleys hadn’t been all bad. Maybe it had prepared him for this adventure. Him. It was always him.
He was angry at Ron. Angry that he had left him like that. Angry that poor Ronniekins couldn’t deal with not having three warm meals a day. Angry that Ron was right; he didn’t know how it felt, he didn’t have a family. Angry that Ron and Hermione were all he had, even if the Weasley matriarch had all but adopted him into their family. Angry that Ron had hurt his Hermione.
Mostly he was angry at himself. Angry that he had let the unspoken arguments fester like they had. He was angry that he had put Ron through all this mess, because Ron was right. He didn’t know where to go, what to do, what Dumbledore wanted him to do. So angry and alone and lost and insecure, because if it hadn’t been for him, Hermione wouldn’t be like this.
It was his fault that Hermione was so devastated. And he had to fix it. He had to.
Idly he turned his wand in his fingers. He wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow but he didn’t think Hermione would want that. Not now. Maybe later. In a few days. But now, now he had to cheer her up, had to make her forget about Ron. If he could make her forget for just an hour.
It was almost morning when he had formulated a plan. It wasn’t brilliant by any means, but it would do.
Wand in hand he slipped through the tent opening and moved towards the girl that was brave enough to leave her parents behind to help him. Unease gnawed at him; she had been sleeping restlessly during the past nights and now he was about to wake her up in the middle of the night. His fingers, cold from the biting winter air outside despite the warming charms he had cast, touched her shoulder and, as gently as he could, he woke her up.
Hermione opened her eyes with effort and took in the strange look on Harry’s face. “Harry? What’s going on?” She took a look around, expecting something to have happened, half-expecting to see that Ron had come back.
“Nothing, Hermione. Get dressed, there’s something we have to do. Hurry,” he said, not even bothering to explain. He wanted to fix what he had broken.
He turned away to give her some privacy but Hermione wouldn’t let him off the hook like that. “Harry, what happened?”
He shook his head, “Nothing, I told you. Please, Hermione.” His voice almost cracked. He didn’t want to tell her what he had planned, didn’t want her to spout logical arguments against this latest stunt of his.
“But –” Hermione started to say, when Harry cut her off.
“Hermione, do you trust me?” He asked her and he looked into her eyes, as though they might provide answers to all his unasked question.
“Harry, you know that I –”
“Hermione,” he repeated, “do you trust me?” The forlorn look in his eyes startled her, caused her breath to hitch for just a moment.
The look in her eyes softened. “Always,” she breathed. “I trust you. Always.”
He didn’t say anything after that, left the tent so she could dress for the cold outside.
When Hermione came out of the tent minutes later, covered in the warmest clothes she had, beaded bag in hand, he whispered the spells needed to undo and shrink the tent and the wards, leaving only one of them.
“Harry, what –” She was at a loss for words. It was very early and still dark outside and she couldn’t see why Harry wanted to leave. The wards hadn’t gone off, they were safe.
“You said you trust me. Put the tent away, quickly,” he ordered. For once she did not protest and when she looked back into his face, he could see that she was trying hard to keep her curiosity and fear in check.
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timeasmymeasure
harry/hermione ~ if we never get out of here
Date: 2010-11-24 02:57 pm (UTC)Another night, another day goes by with Ron gone off. Another night in which Harry heard her, crying almost silently. He always takes the night shift, because she needs all the rest she can get. He is used to this; he’s used to getting little sleep, used to functioning automatically. His body was conditioned for this. It was as though Dumbledore had known that he needed to be moulded into a person who could withstand hunger and cold, a person who could deal with an uncomfortable life. Maybe his life at the Dursleys hadn’t been all bad. Maybe it had prepared him for this adventure. Him. It was always him.
He was angry at Ron. Angry that he had left him like that. Angry that poor Ronniekins couldn’t deal with not having three warm meals a day. Angry that Ron was right; he didn’t know how it felt, he didn’t have a family. Angry that Ron and Hermione were all he had, even if the Weasley matriarch had all but adopted him into their family. Angry that Ron had hurt his Hermione.
Mostly he was angry at himself. Angry that he had let the unspoken arguments fester like they had. He was angry that he had put Ron through all this mess, because Ron was right. He didn’t know where to go, what to do, what Dumbledore wanted him to do. So angry and alone and lost and insecure, because if it hadn’t been for him, Hermione wouldn’t be like this.
It was his fault that Hermione was so devastated. And he had to fix it. He had to.
Idly he turned his wand in his fingers. He wanted to go to Godric’s Hollow but he didn’t think Hermione would want that. Not now. Maybe later. In a few days. But now, now he had to cheer her up, had to make her forget about Ron. If he could make her forget for just an hour.
It was almost morning when he had formulated a plan. It wasn’t brilliant by any means, but it would do.
Wand in hand he slipped through the tent opening and moved towards the girl that was brave enough to leave her parents behind to help him. Unease gnawed at him; she had been sleeping restlessly during the past nights and now he was about to wake her up in the middle of the night. His fingers, cold from the biting winter air outside despite the warming charms he had cast, touched her shoulder and, as gently as he could, he woke her up.
Hermione opened her eyes with effort and took in the strange look on Harry’s face. “Harry? What’s going on?” She took a look around, expecting something to have happened, half-expecting to see that Ron had come back.
“Nothing, Hermione. Get dressed, there’s something we have to do. Hurry,” he said, not even bothering to explain. He wanted to fix what he had broken.
He turned away to give her some privacy but Hermione wouldn’t let him off the hook like that. “Harry, what happened?”
He shook his head, “Nothing, I told you. Please, Hermione.” His voice almost cracked. He didn’t want to tell her what he had planned, didn’t want her to spout logical arguments against this latest stunt of his.
“But –” Hermione started to say, when Harry cut her off.
“Hermione, do you trust me?” He asked her and he looked into her eyes, as though they might provide answers to all his unasked question.
“Harry, you know that I –”
“Hermione,” he repeated, “do you trust me?” The forlorn look in his eyes startled her, caused her breath to hitch for just a moment.
The look in her eyes softened. “Always,” she breathed. “I trust you. Always.”
He didn’t say anything after that, left the tent so she could dress for the cold outside.
When Hermione came out of the tent minutes later, covered in the warmest clothes she had, beaded bag in hand, he whispered the spells needed to undo and shrink the tent and the wards, leaving only one of them.
“Harry, what –” She was at a loss for words. It was very early and still dark outside and she couldn’t see why Harry wanted to leave. The wards hadn’t gone off, they were safe.
“You said you trust me. Put the tent away, quickly,” he ordered. For once she did not protest and when she looked back into his face, he could see that she was trying hard to keep her curiosity and fear in check.