Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter but I do own this plot. The title is taken from a song by Chris Daughtry, Its Not Over.
Author's note: This is dedicated to Glenda, Joanna, and Maxine.
The small fire crackled almost silently, its brilliant orange flames casting the rocks around the three of them, into dark spiking shadows that grew and flickered. The sky was slowly growing darker by the minute, different shades of blue painting the once orange sky. The girl glanced around her, and out at the other hills that surrounded them, which looked cold and foreboding in the dark and was immediately glad of their cozy little alcove and the fire. Her chestnut curls shone in the firelight and she then shivered ever so slightly, but otherwise did nothing to betray the fact that she was absolutely freezing.
But before she could wrap her arms more tightly around herself, her two best friends seemed to almost move on cue, the tall redhead picking up a stick by his side and jabbing at the fire carelessly, sending up another shower of sparks and making the fire crackle to life once again. The other, yanked off his sweater with an easy grace, ruffling his already messy raven hair and passed it to her. She felt almost warm for a second, knowing it wasn't the fire or the sweater. She knew how lucky she was to have such great friends, friends that could almost seemingly read her mind at times and was grateful for them.
Hermione Granger tugged the sweater over her head, snuggling in it for almost a split second, enjoying its wooly softness and the scent that always seemed to linger on Harry, one that could not be defined but if she wanted to be all poetical about it she would have described it as being the 'scent of the wind'. Maybe it was.
She snuck a quick look at him. He looked so much like the youth she had always known since young, although it had seemed he was almost forced to grow up too quickly under the circumstances. The shadows under his almost hollow emerald eyes made her heart twist painfully. It wasn't fair that he'd had had to bear such a heavy burden ever since young. That look in his eyes had always scared her, especially of late. It made her feel as if that she was helpless, in some respect she was. She knew that no matter how much she'd wanted to help him, this she could not help him with.
This being, the final battle with Voldermort tomorrow. They'd come so far, destroying most of the Hoxcruxes they'd found, and now here they were. The final Hoxcrux lay below them in a smaller cave at the foot of this hill and the battle over it with Voldermort was inevitable. The journey had been long, hard and sometimes frustrating, but Hermione was just glad that to know that she had done all she could to help him in this hunt.
Although she knew very clearly she could not fight this battle for him, but she did know that she could and she would be with him to the end.
Just then, almost as if he was reading her thoughts once again, he twisted in his position to give her another rueful smile. "Am I giving you that scary smile again?"
His smile was so infectious; Hermione couldn't help but find herself smiling back at him. This was definitely the Harry she knew and loved. "No, you aren't. At least not anymore."
He chuckled deep in his throat before turning to Ron who was watching them with a half-bemused, half- knowing look. "Is she lying?"
"No she isn't." The redhead teased, pretending to seriously consider the question, picking up the stick to poke the fire once more. "At least I don't think she is."
"That's good then." Harry reached out for his pack. "I seriously need some water; I'm dying of thirst here."
It might have seemed like a completely normal conversation to any outsider but only the three of them knew what they were truly doing: avoiding the subject of what was going to happen the next day. Their future was already uncertain as it was and discussing such things only made all of them feel worse. Sometimes, Hermione mused, ignorance really was bliss. She idly watched Harry open his canteen and watched as he lifted the bottle to his lips, ready to take a sip.
But he paused and turned his head to look at her. Breaking out into another of his famous smiles, Harry proffered the bottle to her instead.
That was just like Harry, Hermione smiled in silent gratitude, always thinking of others first. The first sip of water tasted almost odd, but then they'd been trekking in the mountainous area for Merlin knows how long and it wouldn't have surprised her if some of the dirt had gotten into the water. She then offered the bottle to Ron who gulped it down like it had been the first sight of water he'd seen in many days.
"Thanks, Harry." Hermione, upon turning her attention back to warming herself up, did not notice that Harry had simply capped the bottle once again without taking even a sip like he said he had needed.
Hermione was quiet as she stared once more into the flames. Tomorrow would be a day whereby their fate would be decided. Tomorrow would be the final battle. Tomorrow would be the day she would have to confess her feelings to Harry…before she'd never got the chance to do so ever again.
She shivered once again, although this time not due to the cold, but out of sheer nervousness. She rubbed her hands together, wondering how he would take the news. Would he simply stare at her and reply that he'd never felt the same way? Or would he sweep her into his arms like she'd always hoped he would, kiss her and tell her he had loved her too?
Only time would tell.
Beside her, Ron began to stretch elaborately and yawn. Seeing him do that, made Hermione very conscious of the fact that she was too, very, very, sleepy for some reason as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Maybe the climbing today had actually worn her out more than she'd thought. She too, yawned widely, lying on her back in the dirt. Ron was already half- asleep, his head propped against the jagged rock wall and mouth slightly agape.
Her eyelids were fluttering shut of their own accord no matter how hard she tried to keep them open. But still she struggled to formulate what would be her final words with Harry, although she didn't know it at the time.
"Harry?" She called sleepily.
"Mmm."
"Go to sleep." She murmured, her eyelids already shut but still forcing herself to speak. "You'll need it for tomorrow."
"I will." His voice sounded oddly strangled, she mused dreamily. But she was too tired to actually figure out why.
"Don't worry. We'll…. We'll be with you…. till the end." Hermione mumbled, her voice beginning to slur. Merlin, she didn't know that she had been that tired but the sleep was calling her, almost claiming her. "Good night, Harry."
And with that, Hermione surrendered herself to the beautiful, dark sleep that claimed her into its folds…
Harry glanced back at her, sound asleep in the firelight. He turned away to look out into the inky darkness of the night sky which was dotted with tiny, twinkling dots and sighed. He hated to do this. Really he did. But he had no choice. He didn't want to drag them down with him. Hermione and Ron both deserved a chance to lead their lives normally. They'd sacrificed enough for him and he wasn't going to deprive them of any more. He wasn't going to let his responsibility drag the both of them down.
It was time to go, to say goodbye.
So? What do you guys think? *hint* I promise to update really soon if I get a lot of reviews! J