Awake

Authors Note: Hi, thanks for reading! Oh, and I’d like to thank JKR for letting me borrow her characters and Josh Groban for his lyrics!

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And I know that only time will tell us how
To carry on without each other

So keep me awake for every moment
Give us more time to be this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today

If I could make these moments endless
If I could stop the winds of change
If we just keep our eyes wide open
Then everything would stay the same

We'll let tomorrow wait, you're here, right now, with me
All my fears just fall away, when you are all I see

And I will remember
Oh I will remember
Remember all the love we shared today

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Tomorrow was the day it would all be over. Or would it just be beginning? I couldn’t decide.

I had come to report my findings to the Order after destroying Nagini, the latest and final horcrux that stood between me and Voldemort. An owl from Severus Snape had arrived with a tip: the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself were planning an attack on Diagon Alley the next day when most of the wizarding community would be in attendance. I doubted Snape’s loyalty, but the members of the Order reassured me that they had been receiving communiqués from anonymous Death Eaters that confirmed the same thing.

You see, the Ministry of Magic has led the wizarding population to believe that the dark wizard threat had been subdued as the latest Azkaban recruits included some of the most notorious Death Eaters. We know better, and have already alerted the store owners of the coming danger.

There is no more time for preparation. This isn’t something I could ever be fully prepared for, I know; but I’m not nervous. Death has looked me in the eye too many times to count. I am actually more relaxed than I had ever been.

One-by-one, the members of the Order have all come by my room to offer me bits of advice. Moody was perhaps the least helpful because he started to say something three times and just nodded with a little grunt and squeezed my arm, looking hopeless.

Molly Weasley was the last, and her face nearly broke my heart. Her features and her voice were strong, brave-looking even, but a steady stream of tears fell from her eyes onto my blanket. She gave me a sleeping draught, knowing there was no natural way I would sleep tonight, but I poured it out the window the moment she was gone.

There I’ve sat for almost three hours, watching the pitch black evening. My owl, Hedwig, has been flying through the trees, looking for prey. She’s staying close because she senses what’s to come. She’s always been keen like that.

Instead of planning tomorrow, I’ve been thinking about all I have to live for. I have no idea what I will do if I survive, perhaps finish Hogwarts this summer and play professional Quidditch until I decide? I can’t help but wonder, though, if I die, will I see my parents again? And Dumbledore and Sirius?

I think of all of the people I have to live for, especially Ron and Hermione at Hogwarts, who I will see tomorrow for the first time in nearly a month. They have been training and working with the DA to prepare for this very moment. Kingsley Shacklebolt and some of the other Aurors who’ve been posted at Hogwarts have helped a little, and the students of age who have passed his standards will be fighting with us tomorrow. At first I was surprised by this, but then I realized how much help the Order is going to need against Voldemort. I don’t want to think about what’s at stake for them, but I know that they are fierce, brave, and resourceful.

I pull a stack of parchment from beneath my mattress and illuminate the tip of my wand. They are letters from Hermione that I’ve saved and read nearly every night. They are little pieces of hope that have kept me alive and fighting since just after Dumbledore’s death when the first one arrived. They remind me of everything perfect and lovely in the universe, especially their writer.

Harry, the first reads, even though he’s gone, so much of him is alive in you. He gave the best of himself to you because he knew you possessed the strength and honor to carry out every little bit of wisdom he gave you. Even those silly phrases that didn’t mean much then, but mean everything now…

Her last letter arrived today, and I can’t help but clutch it to my chest after I reread how far the DA has come. Neville Longbottom, she says, has become the voice of the DA. She and Neville have been working hard together to develop practical defensive spells, while the students have silently designated Ron and Luna Lovegood as the offensive tactics leaders. I am so proud of them and happy to have them on my side.

I lay back on the bed and stare at the ceiling with the parchments clutched to my chest. They help me feel that I am not quite alone in this world.

The second my eyes close, the door creaks open and I sit up quickly, startled. The letters flutter to the floor. Hedwig screeches in excitement.

Even though her face is covered by her cloak, I can tell it’s Hermione by her small hands, the way she clutches her wand, and her cautious steps, hesitant like many things she does. My chest tightens, and I practically stumble off the bed to hug her. She smells like honey and Hogwarts and the night air. And she makes me feel warm.

This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way, but death has a way of making a person honest with himself. That’s why, when Dumbledore died a year ago and everything really began, I called things off with Ginny.

It is, however, the first time she’s looked at me that way, her eyes wide and hopeful and shining so brightly even in the darkness of my room. Perhaps, like me, she feels too exhausted to hide her feelings tonight.

“Harry,” she whispers into my shoulder. She’s never lingered in my arms this long before, and the way her hands slide off my back when we finally part sends chills down my spine. She’s trying to tell me.

“How did you get here?” I help her out of her cloak, letting my hands linger on her shoulders to return the message. Yes, I feel it, too.

“A little help from Professor McGonagall. I had to see you.” She trails off and just looks at me. I can feel her drinking me in, but don’t feel self-conscious at all.

An idea suddenly comes to my mind. “Let’s go flying, shall we? Just for a minute. I want to take you somewhere.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t argue about the danger. I have a feeling we won’t come across any Death Eaters, and Hermione can sense it, too.

We pull my dad’s invisibility cloak over us for warmth and concealment and fly out my window. For this moment we are safe, and in the air especially, we have nothing to do with danger and prophecies and dark magic. We are Harry and Hermione, a wizard and witch completely alive as we soar above sleeping Britain at three o‘clock in the morning.

I have never felt more alive than this moment with the wind whipping the hair out of my eyes and Hermione’s arms wrapped around me. Her hands are resting on my stomach instead of on top of each other, and she has pressed her face against my back because I can feel her breath warm and sweet against my skin.

The place isn’t too far away, a clearing atop a large hill in the middle of the woods on the edge of the village. It’s the most wonderful place I’ve been, apart from the Hogwarts grounds, because you can see the lights from the city below and the sky is so much clearer than anywhere else in the town.

“Wow,” Hermione breathes, tilting her head back as far as she can.

“It’s strange really, because I found it by accident. I come here to think and get away from that lot.” I spread my cloak and the invisibility cloak out on the soft earth and gesture to it.

Hermione lies down and folds her hand beneath her head. I lay down next to her, and we watch the stars in silence. After a few minutes, she begins to squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. I put my arms around her waist and pull her close to me. She wraps an arm around me and rests her head on my chest.

“Better?” I ask.

“Yes, much.”

We are silent for a little while, listening to the sounds of the woods below us and the wind around us.

“Keep me awake,” I laugh, and from the way she jumps, I can tell she was fighting sleep, too.

So we talk about the past, laughing about everything we’ve been through together. We’re making fun of Ron and his sad little fixation on his now-sister-in-law during our fourth year when she stops and her breath hitches a little.

“I never thought my life would change because of a silly troll,” she says, her eyes narrowing in thought.

“Was that it?”

“Or a silly little toad named Trevor,” she laughs.

“Oh, Trevor,” I say, raising an imaginary glass in tribute. “He was rather bothersome for our Neville, wasn’t he?”

“Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

“What do you…How different would things be if Neville didn’t have a toad, or if Professor Quirrel hadn’t set that troll loose in the school?” She rolls over onto an elbow and swirls the fingers of the other hand through my hair.

“We simply would have been friends for a shorter amount of time,” I reply quickly, the answer automatic to me. I wonder when we became the type of friends that hold each other beneath the stars on perfect English evenings.

“What do you mean?”

“Well there would have been some catastrophe in Potions class, a detention -- something would have brought us together eventually. You could have fallen in love with Ron or something…”

Hermione tenses and clears her throat, and I know I shouldn’t have brought it up even if they are my best friends. At the end of last term, they had acknowledged romantic feelings for one another, but it had only lasted a month. Once they had nothing to fight about, they realized that their differences far outweighed their compatibility, and soon it became two friends trying to keep up pretenses and gather the courage to sack the other. I had never seen a relationship end so mutually, with such relief and the ability to become an unmentionable subject to keep in the past. They are much more companionable as friends, and the volume of their constant bickering has been one of the only things that feels normal lately.

“I suppose so,” she answers in a small voice. “Do you reckon we should get back?”

I nod and we stand, stretch, and are soon on our way back to Grimmauld Place. Hermione’s arms are clutching me more tightly, so I fly at a safe distance, taking care to avoid the clouds so it’s more smooth for her.

We get back and unlatch the window. Luckily the house is as dark and quiet as we left it. Nobody has even noticed we were missing.

I sit in the window, and she crosses to an armchair near the door. “Thanks, Hermione, for going with me.”

“Sure.” She has a puzzling expression on her face and won’t meet my eyes. I turn and fold the Invisibility cloak and stuff it into the pocket of my regular cloak. “What do you reckon I’ll need today?”

“Today,” Hermione’s voice breaks. She stands and begins to smooth the comforter on my bed. “Well you’ll just need your wand. As long as it has your hand on the end of it, it will be everything you need.” Tears are dripping from her eyes. “Oh Harry, please don‘t say ‘today.’”

“Hermione…”

“No Harry,” Her voice is desperate and she pauses, her face screws up and she brings the back of her wrist to her lips. “I need you to do something for me…”

I can feel my throat tighten and swallow hard, fisting tears from my eyes. “Oh…No, please don’t do that,” I plead around the lump in my throat.

She takes a deep breath to compose herself and continues. “I need you to live, because I don’t know how -- I can’t make it without you.”

The distance closes between us and I cup my hands around her face and kiss her hard. “I can do that, Hermione.” I kiss her again. “I can do that.”

We sink to the carpeted floor and hold each other, exhausted. She is leaning against me and my arms are wrapped casually around her waist.

“It’s not quite ‘today’ yet, now is it?” she says brightly, pointing to the open window, but the first light of morning has already begun to pour through. We can hear the sounds of breakfast being started in the kitchens below.

She rolls onto her side and looks at me for awhile, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re different, Harry.”

“Different?”

“You’re older,” she says, “You don’t have the look of someone who’s fighting to stay strong, fighting his fear of death. You’re honest with yourself, as I suppose can be expected in situations like this.”

“Honest, and wiser,” I chip in, kissing her again to show her that what she says is completely true in our case, too. “It really has a way of opening a person’s eyes.”

I sit up, my chest catches in a wonderful way, and take both of her hands in mine.

“Just know that no matter what happens tomorrow, being here with you today means everything to me. When all of this… is over,” I test the words, the idea of “over” so foreign to me that even saying it sounds strange, “it’s going to be you and me, because I don’t know how to live without you, either.”

She sits opposite me and smiles with her entire face, something I haven’t seen nearly enough in the past couple of months. Our foreheads touch, and we look at each other, as close as we’ve ever been to each other.

“You look a bit like an owl from this close,” she laughs and kisses me before pulling away. “I’ve got to get back to Hogwarts.” We are minutes away from the full light of morning.

“Be c--” she says, starting to tell me to be careful. She’s right to stop; the words are a bit pointless in my predicament.

“You, too,” I say, waving and biting my lip where her sweetness still lingers.

She disappears down the corridor, and I turn back to the room where life really began and the irony of the glorious morning outside the window doesn‘t even bother me. Today has become tomorrow, I realize, but no matter what happens, today has been a good day.