Grip

--Grip

This night is no different then any other. It is calm, quiet, and peaceful. Hermione Granger stands alone on the damp grass. She is waiting for Harry to come out of headquarters' tent so he can tell her where they stand in this horrifying battle against evil.

She anxiously watches the shadows of the men dance on the tent wall. She sees Harry's shadow and her heart warms. She smiles. She sees him pacing between the others. Her smile fades. She knows something bad has happend.

Everything is silent. All that is heard is Hermione's short breaths.

“What's going on in there?”

Hermione is pulled from her deep concentration. She turns to see Ginny Weasley unhurriedly approach her.

“I don't know,” she whispers. She keeps her eyes on the tent. “There using a blasted silencing charm.”

Ginny looks monotonously at the dew wet grass, “Oh,” she sighs.

“Bloody useless to use!” she snarls with annoyance, “Every one of those men will go back to their tents and tell their girlfriends or wives. The entire camp will know what is going on within ten minutes!”

Ginny does not respond. She just stands and watches the tent with the same intensity as Hermione, if not more. She is waiting to hear if her brothers and fiancé are still alive. Her eyes are heavy with grief.

The lights go out in the tent. Hermione and Ginny watch nervously and intently. They wait. Ginny grips Hermione's hand in fear.

“It will be alright,” she whispers to Ginny, in comforting tones.

The tent flap open and the men begin to file out. They ignore Hermione and Ginny as they make their way back to their own tents. Hermione tries to read the faces of the soldiers passing by, but they all hold painful vacant expressions. Ron comes out and stands before the girls. He looks drained.

He looks at Hermione for a fleeting second, before he wraps an arm around his little sister and leads her away, “C'mon Gin, lets get back to our tent.”

Hermione turns to watch them go. She can tell something is wrong from the tone in Ron's voice.

“Hey.”

She whisks around again and sees Harry. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looks almost lifeless; exhaustion has taken its toll on him. They are the only ones left standing on the wet grass. She leans in to give him a kiss.

Hermione looks up at him with concern.

Harry places a hand on the small of he back. He looks to see if they are alone and then urges her in the direction of their tent. “Six more of our troops have been wiped out.”

She hopes she did not hear him correctly, “What?” she gasps.

He talks low and in monotone voice. “Yes,” he confirms, he walks on past a small number of tents, “Three in the east, two in London, and one just twenty miles from here. They're closing in on us.”

A bloodcurdling scream echoes through the camp. Hermione whips her head around. She sees Ginny Weasley kneeling on the ground gasping for air through her violent tears. Ron is hovering over her, trying to comfort her in the best way he can.

Hermione looks up at Harry with wide eyes. “…Harry?

He looks at her and gulps, “Draco.”

Hermione gasps, and covers her mouth shaking her head. “Not Draco,” she says.

Harry looks down at her, and he swallows. “He was with the fourth battalion in London. They were attacked in the middle of the night…Draco was murdered by his own father.”

“NO!” Hermione cries. “He's made such a turn around in the past year! He was a good man.” She turns back and looks at Ginny. She is surrounded by a large group of people, while she sobs into her brothers arms. “Harry she needs me. I am going to her.”

“No, Hermione,” Harry pleads, gripping her wrist. “Stay here.”

“But Harry she's my…”

“I'm leaving tomorrow!” he says abruptly.

“What?”

“I'm leaving tomorrow,” he whispers again.

Tears rush to her eyes. Harry instantly wraps his arms around her; he knows she needs to feel him love her. She buries her head in his shoulder and begins to cry. “You can't go,” she mumbles through sobs.

He wants to cry, but he wants to be strong for her. He doesn't want to leave her. “I have too, Hermione,” he whispers stroking her back.

“Oh Harry,” she says, watching Harry in shock, “what are we going to do?”

Harry exhales deeply. He massages the back of his neck with his right hand, and looks up into the clear night sky.

He wishes he could obliterate everything about the war. He wants to give the sons who have died back to their mothers. He wants the wives to have husbands again. He wants the children to grow up with fathers. He fucking hates this war. It has taken too much away already.

They arrived at their tent. Harry holds the flap open and Hermione crawls in. Harry crawls in after her. Harry looks intently into Hermione's eyes. He loves her so much. He doesn't want anything to ever happen to her. If he lost her he wouldn't be able to go on. She is the reason why he is able to fight this war. She is the reason why he lives.

His face goes still. Hermione knows what happening. She pulls him to her. He buries his face in her shoulder and tears flow from his eyes. She grips him tightly, running her fingers through his raven hair, kissing his head. She knows and understands the pain he has carried for nineteen years. She wishes she could take it all away.

She has never seen him cry before. Not when he fought Voldemort. Not when Sirius died. Not when he told her about the prophecy. Not when he witnessed Lucius Malfoy slay half of the Order. He had kept all that pain locked away inside.

“I am scared.”

“I know.” she whispers, rocking him back and forth soothingly.

He pulls away from her. He looks her in the beautiful brown eyes. “No…I am not scared of this war, I am not scared of fighting Voldemort, and I am not even scared of death!” he proclaims.

. “Well…well what is it you are scared of?” she asks.

“Leaving you in a world with Voldemort… if I die.”

Harry looks up into her eyes. He spots a tear running down her cheek; he wipes it away with his thumb.

She watches him look into her eyes, and she can't help but feel a tiny pang of sadness. She knows there is a chance that Harry will die in his battle against Voldemort; she knows they might not have that much time left together. She holds on tight to the precious time they have now.

“You will come back to me,” she says softly, “because I know you can.”

Harry smiles at her warmly. “I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too.”

Together they sit in silence, holding each other for the final moments they have. All they can do hope and pray that life will be kind, so he can return to her to start the life together they so desperately deserve. But only time would tell…

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