The morning of their departure dawned gray and cold, and the skies threatened snow. Heavy snow, from the looks of it. Hermione finished dressing and washed up her breakfast dishes, then sat down on the couch to wait for Harry.
It had occurred to her that they were going to be spending a lot of their time in a car, which meant a lot of time to talk. She had to wonder just what they would talk about. It was a hell of a lot of time to have to fill.
She was just about to go peek out the window to see if Harry was there yet when a soft pop sounded in the fireplace behind her. She jumped slightly, turning to find the source of the noise.
"Oh, hello, Molly."
"Hello, Hermione, dear! I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Oh, uh, no. No, I'm just-getting ready to head out on my holiday."
Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Yes, Ron told us you were going to go visit him. I do hope that you'll take the time to come and see us too. It's been a while."
Hermione tried to bite back a wince. She hadn't told Ron that Harry was coming along, which meant that Ron hadn't told the other Weasleys. She doubted Mrs. Weasley would be so eager to see her if she knew about Harry.
After Harry and Ron had had their fight, the Weasleys had all but turned their backs on Harry. At first, it had seemed that they weren't going to take sides, but eventually they had. Mr. Weasley was still friendly to Harry when they saw each other at work, but the rest of the family wasn't so kind.
Harry was no longer welcome at the Burrow, or any of the Weasleys' homes. Fred and George, who had always been like brothers to Harry, had decided that Harry had hit way below the belt and had, for a while, taken to sending Harry curses-by-mail. Mrs. Weasley had simply said that she didn't understand what Harry could have been thinking, but she would welcome him back when he was ready to apologize, which would never happen.
Ginny had remained neutral the longest, but even she had eventually picked her brother over Harry. It had been Ron's fault, really. He'd given them an ultimatum-stop talking to Harry, or stop talking to him. Hermione had a feeling that Ron had embellished somewhat when telling them about the argument, as the Weasleys seemed to believe that Harry had taken a great deal of time insulting them each personally.
"Hermione, dear? Are you okay?"
She shook herself from her thoughts. "Oh, yes, sorry. I, um, I can try to stop by." A knock sounded on the door behind her and she froze.
"Go ahead and answer, dear, I can wait."
Hermione started to argue that she really needed to go and finish getting ready to leave, but she couldn't think of a polite way to say it. Instead, she nodded, squared her shoulders and went to answer the door.
"Hey, you ready?" Harry stood there, looking absolutely gorgeous. His faded jeans and T-shirt fit like they were tailor-made, as did the beat-up leather coat. She silently cursed him for looking so damned good when she was already at the edge of her resolve.
"Come in, Harry." She stepped back and let him into the living room.
"Well, well," said Molly's voice from the fireplace and Harry stopped dead. "Harry." Her tone was cold as ice, and her head gave him a rather nasty look from the flames.
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, obviously forcing himself to say anything at all. "I need to use your loo, Hermione."
"Go ahead," she said, patting his arm. "You know where it is."
She waited until he disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind him before turning back to Mrs. Weasley. "So, I'll try to--."
"What's he doing there?" Mrs. Weasley asked briskly. "I wasn't aware that you're still speaking to him."
"Well, yes, I am. Harry is my friend, Molly, as is Ron."
"Is he going on holiday with you?"
Hermione sighed. "Yes."
"Well, maybe you'll stop by some other time then. Nice chatting with you, dear. Goodbye."
She disappeared from the flames before Hermione could say another word. She sat there staring at the fire, shaking her head. This had to end. It had to. She couldn't stand the bickering anymore.
She jumped when she felt a hand close on her shoulder. She hadn't heard Harry come out of the bathroom, but suddenly, there he was. "I'm sorry about that," he said softly. "She shouldn't-it's not right for her to hold it against you."
"You heard?"
He nodded. "Maybe you should go alone. If it's going to cause you problems taking me along--."
"Harry, I'm going because of you. I want you and Ron to talk again. And I know you won't if I'm not there. So neither of us is staying home."
He chewed his lip for a minute, then shrugged. "All right, then. Do you have everything?"
She motioned to her bags. "I'm all set."
Harry picked up her shoulder bag and tossed it over his arm, then hefted her suitcases with a slight groan. "Hermione, is it really necessary for you to bring your entire library with you?"
She laughed. "It's not all books, Harry. We're going to be gone for a month. That's a lot of clothes."
He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Are we ready then, or do you have a few bookcases to lug downstairs too? The kitchen sink, maybe?"
She smirked at him. "You couldn't lift my kitchen sink."
"Aw, now, that's not nice. Here I am carrying your stuff down the stairs and you go and insult me."
She shut the door behind them, giving a quick wave of her wand to magically seal the door. She followed him down the four flights of stairs and out onto the sidewalk where she stopped short. "Harry?"
"What?" he asked, laying down one of her suitcases to pull the keys out of his pocket.
"Where did you get this?"
"I rented it. Why? Don't you like it?"
She laughed. "It's a truck."
"Yeah. An SUV, actually." He pulled the tail gate open and slid her bags in. "You want this one up front?"
"Yes, please," she said, still staring at the truck. "I thought you were going to get a car?"
"This has more room. More comfortable. I'm glad I got it now, since you're insisting on bringing your entire apartment along."
He came around and opened the passenger's side door for her. She gave him a small smile, then climbed inside. "Wow, leather seats," she said, running her hand over the smooth, gray material.
"Yeah, and they have heaters in them, look." He reached down and clicked a button on the side of her seat. "Bum warmers."
She giggled, feeling the seat grow warm. "Nice."
He shut her door and climbed into his side a minute later. "All right. Ready then?"
"Whenever you are. Where are we going first?"
"Up the coast," he said, pulling out into traffic.
"To?"
"Now, that would be telling. Just wait."
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you agree to come with me?"
He glanced at her, then shrugged. "You asked me to."
"I've been asking you to make up with Ron for three years. What was so different about this time?"
"I didn't agree to make up with Ron, Hermione. You asked me to come and try to talk to him."
"Which I've done a thousand times before."
"And I said I would."
"Why now?"
"Because you asked me to."
"Harry--."
He sighed. "Because you asked me to, Hermione. Because you wanted it. As angry as I am with Ron, and as much as I would like to punch him in his miserable face, I know you want this."
It confirmed just what she'd always thought. He would do anything for her. It hurt like hell to know that.
"Have you thought about what you're going to say to him?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"I'm sorry."
She frowned. "For what?"
He chuckled. "That's what I'm going to say to him."
She looked at him for a minute. "You're going to apologize to him?"
"Yeah."
"But I thought you said--."
"I did, but you're right. It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said what I did. I should have been kinder, knowing how much it hurt him."
"You're-you're actually going to apologize?"
"Shouldn't I?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, you weren't completely in the wrong but one of you has to be first. It's very big of you to be willing to say it."
"It's not big of me, Hermione. We aren't going to get anywhere if one of us doesn't say it, so I'll say it."
She stared at him for a minute. He was leaning forward, squinting up through the windshield. "Thank you, Harry."
He glanced at her, then nodded. "You're welcome. You don't have to keep saying that, you know."
"I want to. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Yeah I do, or I wouldn't be doing it."
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The snow started around eleven, blowing in thick and heavy from the first flake. "How bad is this supposed to get?" Hermione asked, frowning out her window.
"Dunno," Harry muttered, reaching over to flip on the heater. "I didn't watch the weather."
She sighed. It was so like Harry to plan a trip without concern for the weather. She turned on the radio and switched through the channels, trying to find a weather report. "…just starting, unfortunately. I can't say it enough, this storm is going to be a nasty one. The latest updates are saying seven to ten inches, possibly more. Four inches already on the ground in the western counties, no sign thus far of letting up. The national weather center is advising residents to stock up and stay in."
"Seven to ten inches isn't that bad," Harry reasoned, shrugging. "It could be much worse."
"Possibly more though. Do you think we should stop and find a place to stay? We could wait it out for a few days. We have plenty of time to get to Ron's."
Harry shook his head. "No need. It's just starting here. We'll make it to the inn long before it gets bad."
"Well--if you're sure."
"I'm positive. I'm hungry. What's say we get some lunch?"
Hermione had to laugh. "You just ate breakfast a few hours ago. How could you possibly be hungry?"
He grinned, pulling into the carpark of a little restaurant. "I'm still growing. Or at least, I hope I am."
"Yeah, well, let's make this fast. I really don't want to get caught in this storm."
"We won't. Trust me."