Comfort

Mucho amo to my beta-ish Miss Mady!

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Harry arrived at his flat feeling more tired than he had in days. Recent reports of former Death Eaters resurfacing in South America had kept the department busy with sorting tips, intelligence, and interrogation of prisoners in Azkaban. Harry had kept himself immersed in his work. There was one he had personally asked Shacklebolt if he could bring in himself.

Dolohov's cruel laugh echoed in his ears as he unlocked his door with a murmured, “Alohamora.” His mind flashed to the image of Hermione falling to the ground in the Department of Mysteries, which strengthened his resolve. He only had to think of her lying in the hospital bed to remind of him of why he had become an Auror in the first place: to protect those that he loved. He opened the door quietly. No need to disturb the peace that surrounded his home. His and Hermione's home, in actuality.

It had taken time, several cases of cheating death, and Hermione's disaster of a relationship with Ron for both of them to see what was in front of them. “I can honestly say that I have never hated anyone as much as Ron during those six months,” she would say with a shake of her head. At the time of the break-up, it seemed as if their friendship had been injured forever, but both moved on as the best of friends.

He wondered, Has it really been three years since then? Time flies when you're just lucky to be alive, I guess.

He shrugged off his Muggle jacket and hung it on the rack next to the door. Hermione hated it when he threw it over the back of the sofa, but he could never hide the grin on his face when she huffed. She would give up and laugh with him, calling him an insufferable git all the while.

He fought back a yawn as he walked down the hall to their bedroom. If he got in a quick nap, he'd be awake in time to have dinner fixed when Hermione got home. Snuffling sounds from the study put all of his senses on the alert. Only he, Ron, and Hermione could come into the flat without permission, but wards could be broken. Wand at the ready, he inched the door open.

The sight that greeted him was unexpected. There was Hermione with her knees to her chest in one corner of the small sofa. Her shoulders were jerkily moving up and down. It hit him that she was crying—no—she was sobbing. He put his wand in his pocket and moved into the room slowly. He couldn't understand. She should have still been at St. Mungos finishing her hours of internship for the week. Had something happened to her? In his wonder, he accidentally stepped on a spare piece of paper that was lying on the floor. She looked up in alarm and her red-rimmed eyes widened in shock.

“Harry! What are you doing home; it's only two!” Her voice was shaking.

“It's four o'clock,” he corrected.

“Really? Must have lost track of the time.” She tried to wipe the tears off her face discreetly by rubbing her face. Harry sat next to her, unsure of what to do. Could he ask outright without upsetting her even more?

“Hermione—what's wrong?”

“Oh, I just caught a bug at work, nothing else. Healer Inman told me to go home to get better. He's a really great boss. Do you know that—“

“You're lying to me,” Harry interrupted gently. “I know by now.”

Her façade of normality held for only a moment. The tears streamed down her face again and she launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Harry!” she gasped.

“It's okay. It's going to be alright,” he whispered.

“We thought that he was doing so well and then he just took a turn for the worse! I was going to check on him before lunch, but Healer Inman stopped me with my hand on the doorknob. He just said, `He's gone, Hermione.' Gone in the blink of an eye! I should be so used to seeing people die like this, but I never—I never watched them get better and crash before my eyes!” Her loud weeping dropped off into a barely audible whisper.

“He wasn't that much older than us, Harry. He used to joke all the time how when he was better he was going to fly to the top of Mount Everest and retire from being an Unspeakable. He only told me he was one because he trusted anyone who was a friend of Harry Potter. And now—now he's gone!”

Harry felt his heart breaking. They had all lost so much during the war. For Hermione to lose someone else like that—it had to be devastating for her. He hugged her tighter. “I've got you. Don't worry.”

Neither of them counted the hours they sat there. Eventually, Hermione spoke. “Healer Inman told me that sometimes it happens. It seems that they're getting better and their body fails on them. He said that you can't save every person that comes through those doors. But I want to try, Harry. I've got to.”

“I know the feeling. When you feel like you're close to succeeding, but you don't hit the mark. Like you've let everyone down. Even yourself.”

“Don't you dare think that way. You've done all you can for everyone,” she said firmly.

He responded just as strongly, “And so have you. I remember you staying out there extra hours so you could help your patients. You did all you could, Hermione. You're not to blame.” He kissed the side of her neck. “You can't beat yourself up for things out of your control.”

She leaned back and looked him in the eyes. “And then I started thinking how if I could lose one person, how I would lose everyone else important to me. My parents, Ron….” Her voice trailed off, but Harry knew that he was the one she was most afraid of losing.

“You'll never lose me. If Voldemort couldn't do it, no one can. I promise by everything dear to me that I'll always be here. Even when I'm not around, I'm going to be with you.” He wiped some of her tears away with his thumbs. “Always.”

Fresh tears replaced the ones he had wiped away. Hermione wrapped her arms tightly against his neck and cried into his shoulder. If she had worried before, he didn't feel any now. Every word he had said was true.

They stayed in the study for the rest of the night, each comforting the other.

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