A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews, guys. I really appreciate it. This is the first time I'm really trying to mix both romance and plot. I hope it works.
"You," Ron said slowly. "Went after a horcrux… without me?"
Hermione fought irritation. "Yes. Yes, we did, Ron. I'm sorry if you felt left out, but I daresay that's hardly what's at stake here."
Ron scowled, not looking mollified.
Harry sounded short tempered. "It had to be done. We managed fine."
Hermione tried to send a reassuring smile in his direction, but Harry ignored her. He'd put distance between them ever since they'd destroyed the horcrux. Hermione suspected he had yet to come to grips with her near-death experience.
She missed him-her Harry, the Harry he felt comfortable being in her presence.
"How's the Burrow?" Harry asked.
"Oh, fine," Ron said, waving a hand. "Mum gave me an earful-"
Harry and Hermione winced in sympathy.
"-she doesn't know exactly what we're doing, only that it's going after You-Know-Who. I reckon she's just fussed I won't be taking N.E.W.T.'s."
"We'll see about that," Hermione muttered. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Bill and Fleur are disgusting," Ron said, face screwing up in dislike. "Always snogging each other and stuff."
"Yeah," Harry said. "That would be awful to see all the time." Harry made an odd coughing sound in his hands that sounded suspiciously like, "Lavender Brown."
"Anyway," Ron said hastily. "Anything else you wanna know?"
Ron wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Hermione felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. Her eyes ticked to Harry's face. His expression was unreadable.
"Sure," he said quietly. "How's she doing?"
"She's moping," Ron said. "She misses you. Have you ever considered-"
"No," Harry said firmly. "Absolutely not. She's safer this way."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Okay, your choice, mate. But I wouldn't count on her waiting around for you forever."
"I wouldn't expect her to," Harry said shortly. He turned to the window. "I'll keep first watch. You two get some rest."
Hermione went to brush her teeth, keeping her hands clenched. She stared in the bathroom mirror and wondered if any of her inner turmoil showed on her face.
Harry had settled himself down in the window seat when she came back into the room. She wanted to settle herself down in his lap and feel his arms encircle her. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the stiffness of his shirt against her neck.
She climbed into bed next to Ron, shivering slightly.
"Cold?" he asked her, his blue eyes filled with concern.
She nodded. "Yes, a little."
He handed her more of the comforter, looking proud of his generosity.
Hermione snuggled down against her pillow. "Thanks, Ron."
"No prob," he said, giving a wide yawn.
Wind howled outside, causing the windows to shake. Hermione glanced at Harry, positively aching for him. The only time she seemed to feel safe was in his arms, his skin next to hers.
She closed her eyes, willing her mind to relax. She needed every moment of sleep she could get.
***
She felt someone shake her shoulders, calling her name.
Harry, her sleeping mind said. Must be Harry…
"Miss Granger, please wake up, Miss Granger…"
The voice was deep, panic making it sound rough. Her eyes snapped open as a burst of adrenaline made her feel wide-awake. She grabbed at her wand, finding it safely tucked into the waistband of her pajamas.
"Miss Granger, you must leave, right now, there's not time to…"
"T-Tom?" Hermione said, stumbling in the darkness of the room.
A hand closed around her wrist, the grip desperate.
"You-must-leave!!"
"Leave?" Hermione said, trying to stay calm. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. It was Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron. He was clad in only a pair of boxers. His eyes were wild.
"What's-what's going on?" she glanced at the window.
Her heart stopped.
Harry was gone.
Her chest heaved and she felt like she was fighting from underwater, desperate to reach the surface and take her first breath of fresh air.
"Harry-where's-what's happening?"
Tom let go of her wrist and Hermione winced. Her skin throbbed where his fingers had been.
He gave a maniacal laughter and stumbled back a few steps.
"What's happening?" he leaned towards her, his cheeks gaunt. "They're here! Can't you hear them? They-are-here!"
"Here..." Hermione whispered. "Oh, god…"
Terror seized her. She grabbed Ron's shoulders and shook him as hard as she could.
"Murgh. Wazzgoingon?"
"Get up!" she shrieked. She took a deep breath, her heart hammering. "Ron, the Death Eaters are coming. You need to get up right now. Do you hear me? We have to get out of here!"
She jumped from the bed, grabbing odds and ends as she found them. Shirts, knickers, pants, hers, Ron's, Harry's. It didn't matter.
"Dumbledore's diary," she mumbled. She dived under the bed, her fingers searching for it in the nooks and crannies she couldn't see.
It was gone.
She gave a sudden gasp of understand. Harry…
She stood up. Tom was looking out the window through the curtains. Hermione stopped, frozen. She could see the flicker of fire in the distance. The sounds of shattering glass penetrated the room.
Her chest heaved as she continued to struggle for breath. Her hand clenched spasmodically at her throat.
Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry…
"Ron!" she burst out. "Where are-"
"Here," he answered, taking her elbow and bring her back to reality.
She hoisted the suitcase, her hands trembling. "I packed-I…"
"That's good, Hermione. Real great," Ron pulled her close, for which she was grateful. "Come on, we have to go."
"No," she said. "Ron, we can't. Not without Harry. He could be anywhere!"
"Hermione!" There was a loud explosion from outdoors. "We don't have time-"
"It's Harry!" she said, fighting hysteria. "He wouldn't leave us, you know he wouldn't!"
Tom backed away from the window, his eyes bloodshot.
"Best of luck to you," he said. He turned towards the doorway, hefting his wand. "If I'm lucky, I'll take a few of the sodding bastards with me."
Tom rushed from the room. Hermione tried to go after him, but Ron held her back.
"Are you mental?" he roared. "We have to go!"
"Harry-"
"Will find us!" Ron said. "Hermione, if we stay, it's suicide."
Before she could say anything else, Ron Apparated, dragging her along with him.
The last thing she heard was the scream of a man whose life was ending.
***
Hermione gave a great gasp when they appeared in Godric's Hollow. Ron let go of her and she stumbled, arms flailing around her. Her head snapped around, trying to look in all directions at once.
It was empty.
"He's not here," she said, sinking to her knees. The first pinpricks of daylight crept over the horizon. "He's not here, Ron."
Ron sat down beside her, his face pale. "What-I don't-"
"It happened so fast," Hermione whispered. "It all happened so fast."
Ron rubbed his hands together, his eyes bewildered as he scanned the area in front of them.
"Where do you reckon he went?"
Hermione shook her head, I don't know on the tip of her tongue. Instead she moved closer to Ron, needing to feel some kind of reassurance.
"He left us," Hermione said, voice bitter. "He went off on his own."
"On his own?" Ron repeated.
Hermione nodded. It wasn't really a surprise. Ever since the three of them had set off on their mission, Hermione had silently been counting down the time until Harry would try and leave them.
"Now what?" Ron said.
"We wait," she said heavily.
For how long, she didn't know. She leaned back, her head resting against Ron's arm. It hurt her neck, but she didn't say anything.
The sky was turning lighter, the black fading to a yellow-hue, the last of the stars shimmering out of existence. Birds chirped and sung, their noises jarring when Hermione could still hear the sounds of glass breaking and the screams of terrified people. Harry was out in that, somewhere, alone.
Ron's breathing, regular in its ins and outs, reminded her she wasn't alone. She closed her eyes. She was safe for now.
***
The sound of an Apparating witch or wizard rang through the field. Hermione sprang up, her movements awkward and uncoordinated. She fumbled for her wand, encircling her fingers around it and taking a deep breath. Ron grabbed her arm, holding her back as he took a cautious step forward.
"It's Harry," she said. "It has to be."
She and Ron searched the surrounding area, stopping when they caught sight of him. He was frozen, staring at them with a wide-eyed look. And then he was running, covering the distance between them in a matter of seconds.
He ran into them, nearly knocking her and Ron down into the grass. They grabbed on to sleeves and arms and hands, colliding into a tight three-person hug. Hermione chocked back a sob as she felt Harry's arm slide around her, his leg pressed against her own. He smelled like smoke and fire, but he was fine-fine, he was fine.
They broke apart and Harry and Ron hugged, bringing tears to her eyes. When it was her turn, she really did cry, her tears sliding onto Harry's shoulder. He held her tightly, arms locked around her backside. She wanted to kiss him, laugh and sob. She felt his lips press against her neck and shivered.
"Later," he whispered in her ear before he pulled away.
The three of them looked at each other. She smiled and wiped at her eyes, her relief making her feel weak.
***
"I thought you were dead," Harry said, leaning back in his chair. They were at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place in London-their new home. "You were right, Hermione, I was planning on taking off. But then…"
"Diagon Alley was attacked," Ron guessed. "Good one, mate."
"You came back for us," Hermione said, watching Harry's eyes. He seemed older, his innocence quickly disappearing behind a face that had witnessed too much in too short a time.
"Yeah," Harry said, tapping the table. "When I got back to the Leaky Cauldron, there was…" he swallowed, staring at the table. His voice dropped. "The Dark Mark was hovering over it."
Hermione turned cold. "Oh, Harry…"
"I was so sure…" he shook his head and looked at them. He tried to smile. "All I could think was that you two were gone and it was my fault."
A moment of silence passed and Hermione linked her fingers together, twisting them back and forth.
"I never…" Harry released a shaky breath. "It was a bad moment for me. The Order was running around, trying to calm people down, find out who was dead. So I went in."
"And we weren't there," Hermione said, suddenly relieved Ron had dragged her away.
"Tom's dead," Harry whispered. "He was just… lying there… on the front table, you know? I checked the rest of the place over, but I didn't find anyone else. I still couldn't be sure… not until I saw you."
Harry leaned back in the chair, gripping the edge of the table. Hermione wanted to comfort him, but Ron's presence was like a physical barrier.
"I never would've left if I'd known," Harry said. He pulled Dumbledore's diary out and set it on the table.
He stood up, looking like the effort cost him physical pain. Ron stared at the diary and then at Harry.
"You're going to take off on us again, aren't you?"
Harry folded his arms over his chest. He didn't say anything.
"Great," Ron said. "For a moment, I actually thought I could be useful."
Harry's eyes were apologetic. He leaned on the table, using it to support his weight.
"I won't make any promises-I can't." His voice was rough. "But I do need you-both of you-to win this. I can't take the same chance again. I shouldn't have left."
Hermione knew that was the best they were going to get. Ron slumped, seeming to sense the same thing.
"I'm going to get some rest," Harry said. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
Harry shuffled out of the room, back hunched over and looking like he was carrying the fate of the world on his shoulder.
Which of course he was.
***
Hermione hesitated outside Harry's room, her hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle.
Harry looked up as she entered. He was sitting cross-legged, back leaning against the headboard.
"Hey," she whispered.
She was momentarily overwhelmed, the strain of the last few days catching up to her. But here he was-Harry-sitting safely in his room at Grimmauld Place.
He blinked at her before smiling-a genuine smile. It lit up his entire face, making him seem younger.
She grinned back, relief crawling through her.
"Hermione," he said quietly.
She felt a jolt-she loved the way he could say her name. Everything he was feeling seemed to pour out in that whisper.
Without talking, she joined him on the bed, going into his arms. And then his lips were meeting hers-over and over. His palm slid over her back, dipping under her shirt and tickling over her skin.
The rest of the world faded away as she curled up in Harry's arms, his mouth doing wonderful things to hers.
***
They rested side by side, no more than a foot separating their faces. Their hands were linked, resting on the bed between their bodies. Every few seconds, Harry would let his free hand trail over her cheek or tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"So you think it's in Borgin & Burkes?"
"Yeah, I do," Harry said. "Listen, Dumbledore isn't really specific about anything in his diary, but…"
He sat up and summoned the diary to him, rifling through its pages before pausing three quarters of the way through.
"That Mr. Borgin is a terribly humorous bloke. I was just passing by, a little stroll in mid-afternoon when I came about his shop. He was delighted to see me, of course. He showed me around, explicitly detailing his attempts over the years to turn it into a more 'respectable' business and so on and so forth. Naturally, I inquired after a bit of water. Imagine my surprise when I was refused! Being a wizard of my skill, however, I was capable of conjuring up a goblet for myself…."
Harry snapped the diary closed and raised his eyebrows. "There. You see? He was after Hufflepuff's cup."
Hermione blinked. "Harry…"
"I know," he said. "But it's the best we have to go on right now."
Hermione sighed. "It'll be harder to get into Knockturn Alley now that the Death Eaters have attacked Diagon Alley."
"Well," Harry said, frowning. "We have the Invisibility cloak and the brightest witch of her age."
Hermione flushed. "Oh, hush up."
Harry grinned and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She sighed happily, arms encircling his neck. She settled against him, her head resting perfectly on the groove of his shoulder.
"Harry?"
"Mmm?"
He was pressing light kisses to her neck, his hand rubbing up and down over her hip.
"Was it random, do you think? The attack on Diagon Alley?"
Harry stopped what he was doing. Hermione watched him think.
"Yes," he finally said. "I don't think they were after us."
If they were, we'd be dead, Hermione realized, with a vague sort of detachment.
"They're trying to create widespread panic," Harry said darkly. "It doesn't matter where you are, you won't be safe."
She kissed his chin. "Do you think it's working?"
Harry shrugged and let his forehead drop on her shoulder.
"Unfortunately," he mumbled. "It's working brilliantly."