Harry woke up to the feeling of frost against his skin. Good, maybe it would numb his pain.
"Harry! Harry!" he heard a familiar voice in the distance. Minuets later, he felt a hand turn him over, and he had to squint his eyes from the glare of Ron's red hair.
"Leave me alone. I want to die" said Harry croakily.
"No, Harry, come on!" Ron was beaming. Suddenly, Harry wanted to rip his head off. How dare Ron smile at a time like this? "Come on, you've gotta see!"
Harry didn't have the strength to argue, so he let Ron lead him back to the castle.
He froze. No, it couldn't be, not after all that fuss, he had seen her die… But it was! Standing, perfectly healthy, dressed in white hospital robes, was-
"Hermione" Harry breathed. He suddenly noticed how unseasonably warm it was for December.
There was a beautiful red and gold bird perched on her arm: Fawks, Dumbledore's old phoenix. She was stroking it softly, and when she saw Harry and Ron, her face split into the brightest smile Harry had ever seen.
They rushed over to her and flung their arms around her in a three person hug. She beamed and kissed both their foreheads. Fawks had flown off again, circling Hogwarts and singing his beautiful song.
They let go for a second, but Harry couldn't help it; he embraced her again.
"You scared me so much" he breathed in her ear, a single tear sliding down his cheek. "I thought you were a gonner."
"I thought so too. But it was amazing, Harry; I was about an inch away from death, and that bird, Fawks, came and cried on me!" she gave a tinkling laugh, and Harry smiled. He never thought he'd hear that laugh again. "The wound's completely gone, look!" she pulled the shoulder of her robe down, and Harry ran his fingers along the smooth, unmarked skin.
"Hey, let's go back, shall we?" Ron was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was looking surly and suspicious, but thankfully Hermione didn't notice.
*
Harry couldn't believe Christmas had come so quickly. They really couldn't risk being seen, so it had been too difficult to get presents, but they had had a small gathering with Remus, Tonks and Rebecca.
For the first time in months Harry felt completely at rest: everyone was chatting, eating, drinking or pulling crackers. Harry watched Hermione talking happily to Rebecca. Once again, he remembered how close he had come to losing her. He remembered the imaginary Voldemort, and wondered weather he was from Harry's imagination, or whether Voldemort had used occlumeny.
"I've taken her from you, Potter… your precious mudblood has little more than ten minuets to live… she'll die soon, just like everyone else you ever loved…you ever loved…you ever loved…"
The words echoed in Harry's brain, and he had to take a walk outside.
He had suspected it ever since the dream he had at the Dursley's and his suspicions grew stronger when he saw her in the Mirror of Erised, but he never admitted it, not even to himself.
Besides, Ron loved Hermione, and he was supposed to love Ginny. Ginny was brilliant. He couldn't help but think of the words Snape used to describe Narcissa Malfoy; talented, popular and stunningly beautiful. Ginny was even good at quidditch. She was everything he could want in a girl.
But she wasn't Hermione.
Oh, what was the point in denying it anymore? He was in love with Hermione. There. he'd admitted it. Looking back over his life, there had been times when he'd felt the tiniest flutter of the emotion: when she was hurt in the Department of Mysteries, at the Yule Ball, when she was helping him rescue Sirius. But he had been too young and naïve (and stupid) to recognise them.
But he did now. When he thought she was dead, he had never felt such an overpowering sense of loss. Not when Dumbledore died, not even when Sirius died. It devoured him.
He had started noticing things about her too. Little things. Like when her eyes caught the light, there was a glint of gold in them, and that there was a tiny scar on her little finger, and when she smiled, she only showed her first six teeth, but when you really made her smile, you could see almost all her teeth, and-
You get the point.
But there was a terrible snag. Hermione was going out with Ron, and that made Harry a treacherous friend for even thinking these thoughts. And a treacherous friend to Hermione too, who probably didn't feel the same.
He looked at up the sky. As the clouds parted, twinkling stars shone down, their faint glow making it possible to see the gently falling flakes of crisp snow. He wished Sirius was here more than ever. Perhaps he might know what to do.
"Harry?" Remus's voice was half obscured by the crunch of snow under his feet as he trudged over to Harry. "Are you ok?"
Harry sighed, breathing a puff of condensation into the air. "Well, I think I have a problem."
"Oh?" Remus sat besides him, handing him a cup of tea and sipping his own.
"I think I'm in love with my best friend" Harry blurted out. Remus choked on his tea.
"R- Really?" Remus sounded edgy "well, I- I don't quite know what to- erm- say…" he shifted uncomfortably and looked embarrassed. What was wrong? It wasn't that bad.
"I didn't think you'd be that shocked."
"W-well, I think, I mean, I suppose it is becoming a bit more, ah, accepted. I- I just didn't think you were the, um, type."
What?
"Look, I just need some help. I mean, you must know all about that kind of thing."
Remus looked mortified. "W-what?!"
"I just mean you're in a relationship yourself."
"I- that's completely different! I mean, Tonks is a woman, for one thing!" he spluttered. Harry frowned; Remus had completely lost him. What did he think Hermione was? A boy?
"Look, what are you talking about?"
"Err, what are you talking about?"
I'm t- oh, not Ron! I mean Hermione!" said Harry, exasperated. Remus's eyes widened.
"Oh. Um, sorry" he blushed. Harry stared at him in disbelief.
"But Ron's part of the problem. See, he and Hermione are going out."
Harry thought of Snape, lusting after both Lilly and Narcissa, who both got married and had sons. What if Ron and Hermione got married and had a child? Would Harry treat it with as much hate and resentment Snape had to him?
"Ah" Remus sighed. There was silence, then: "Well, Harry, I'd hate to encourage you into doing the wrong thing, but you'll find true love can come out of the most unlikely, awkward situations. Look at me and Dora!" he patted Harry on the shoulder "things will come out the right way. If you and Hermione are meant to be, things will work themselves out. If not… you'll get over it eventually, and be happy for your friends. It might be what's best for them." Harry smiled, but inside he was confused. He couldn't be happy for them. Why was his life so complicated?
*
Boxing Day had not been as happy as Christmas. Remus, Tonks and Rebecca had left, and Ron and Hermione constantly bickered. They were at it now.
"Oh, shut up, Ron. I know perfectly well you ate the last turkey sandwich."
Harry peered out of his bedroom window to the grounds where they were walking and shoved the offending turkey sandwich under his bed.
"It wasn't me, for Merlin's sake! Honestly woman, listen!"
"Don't call me woman! And it was you; I can tell when you're lying to me!"
"You just don't trust me!"
"You don't trust me! You're always suspicious when I'm hugging Harry or whatever…"
"Speaking of Harry, why aren't you blaming him?"
Harry heard her mutter something. He glared at the sandwich furiously. It was its entire fault.
"I thought not. It's always about Harry isn't it? Harry this, Harry that-"
"He's our friend, Ron!"
"To me he is, but you see him differently, don't you? I've seen you looking at him, how you're always touching him…"
"THAT'S IT!" Hermione screamed "WE CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE, WE CAN'T!"
There was a long, painful silence, then;
"We're breaking up?" Ron croaked.
"I'm sorry Ron, I just-" Hermione sniffed "look at us! Our arguing's worse than ever." She put a hand on his shoulder, and Harry was surprised to see he didn't flinch away. "We bring out the worst in each other. We're better off as friends."
With that she let go of him and hurried back to the door. Ron just sat on a rock for a while, apparently thinking.
Harry knew he should feel bad for his friends, and he did feel very sorry for Ron, but he couldn't help it: his insides were doing the conga. He felt like a horrible, dirty person, but he couldn't believe his luck.
*
Next morning, you could have cut the tension with a spoon. Ron wasn't very responsive, and didn't always answer when Harry asked him something. When he did, they were short, simple sentences. Hermione was teary and sounded as though she had a bad cold. They didn't speak over breakfast but kept glancing at each other when the other wasn't looking.
Harry knew exactly what the matter was, but they didn't know that and if he didn't ask he would seem ignorant.
"What's the matter?" he asked Hermione.
"We broke up" she mumbled.
"Oh… I'm sorry." Hermione shook her head.
"It's ok. It wasn't meant to be."
They continued to treat each other politely, but coldly for the next few days. Harry was glad they had split up, as Hermione was right, they did bring out the worst in each other, but wanted more than anything for them to be friends again.
He talked to Ron about the break-up, but he just repeated everything Hermione had said, adding: "at least when we're just mates, you're not left out, are you?" to which Harry smiled, but felt immensely guilty.
New Year's Eve in an empty castle wasn't too much fun, but Ron had got his hands on some firewhisky, and it warmed Harry to the core.
Hermione didn't have any (she seemed to disapprove) but was content to read by the window sill, glancing out occasionally. Harry and Ron, with nothing else to do, played wizard's chess on the floor. Ever since the day Hermione had destroyed the third horcrux, they had had no idea where the fourth might be.
They had taken a couple more trips to the Chamber of Secrets again, seeing Nagini's remains now mouldering along with the Basilisk's. But there was not another one, and Harry was forced to give up once and for all.
"What's going on?" said Hermione suddenly, peeping out the window.
Harry and Ron joined her. The village of Hogsmead was ablaze with flickering orange light, and there was smoke rising thick and fast into the clouded night sky.
"Come on!" said Harry, adrenaline pumping. It looked like Hogsmead was being attacked.
They rushed out, a faint smell of smoke greeting them as they stepped into the frosty night air. Harry had grabbed Gryffindor's sword, and Ron's broom, and Ron zoomed higher, his cloak rustling against the wind.
"Yeah, looks like something's happening" he yelled from the sky.
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other desperately. How were they going to get there? They couldn't all fit on Ron's broom, and Harry had foolishly left his Firebolt at the Weasley's.
Suddenly they heard an eagle's screech. They snapped their heads around.
"Buckbeak! I mean, Witherwings!" gasped Hermione. The sharp outline of the Hypogriff was tethered up by Hagrid's cabin, flapping its wings hysterically and pulling against its rope with all its might.
"Do we have to?" Hermione pleaded. Harry nodded and they approached Buckbeak. They bowed, not breaking eye contact, and when Buckbeak bowed back they mounted its handsome feather-coated back and cut the rope. Buckbeak stretched its wings gratefully and soared majestically through the sky. Ron swooped down to fly along side them and they headed to the village.
The sound of screaming and manacle laughter filled their ears, and they could see flashes of coloured light that indicated spells being fired.
Harry could feel Hermione shaking as they flied and tightened his grip on her. She relaxed immediately.
As soon as they landed, Buckbeak had to back kick a Death Eater who tried to leap on them.
"Petrificus totalus!" Harry roared at another Death Eater. The place was swarming with them: they were on buildings, tearing children from their mothers and generally causing havoc.
Various Order members and Aurors were trying their best to control them, but they were slightly outnumbered, and while some of the inhabitants of the village were trying to help, others were just too scared.
There appeared to be some sort of battle going on.
*
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