A/N: One chapter and I'm already breaking my own rules. Just want to thank you guys again for the reviews and advice, you're the best inspiration there is. But for anyone who is expecting them to get together soon OR does not like them being constantly thrown into awkward and ridiculous situations involving one another, this fic isn't for you :). And if all of it seems to always result in antics revolving around their shared bed…well, don't be surprised if it does, that's all I have to say! Probably should have said all that in the first chapter, huh? I'm so evil, mwahahahah!
Enjoy. - Wilkes
Chapter 4: The Promise
Another day, another location. Harry and Hermione were sitting on their bed, a stack of books spread open at different angles between the two of them. Hermione had found a new lead while scanning through Hogwarts: A History. An article had stated in passing that Godric Gryffindor often wore a golden monocle while reading texts to his class, and they had been scouring Hermione's mini-library for any additional information they could find.
"It says here," Hermione said, absentmindedly spinning her quill in thought, "that it was thought that he could see things 'no other human being could' while wearing it…"
"Like Mad-Eye's…mad eye?" asked Harry, smirking as he skimmed through A History of Magic.
"Ha ha!" Hermione mocked as she flipped a page.
Both seemed a thousand times more comfortable than they had been in weeks. Surprising to both of them, the pillow blockade had actually worked, effectively making their unified bed separate once again. Besides the occasional rebel falling off the bed in the middle of the night, the wall had managed stayed in tact, and neither of them had come close to coming into physical contact with the other (although they both tended to gravitate towards the center of the bed, one of Harry's arms usually hanging over and lightly brushing Hermione's shoulder). As more nights passed without awkward entanglement, and their sanity became restored by a growing trust in the separator, they reverted back to their normal, friendlier ways. Harry was glad to be able to talk with his best friend without any fear, a feat he never would have thought himself capable of achieving a few days ago.
"Well, according to this," Harry started, his eyes following his index finger as it glided along the paragraph, "his monocle was…" He trailed off.
"What? What is it, Harry?" pleaded Hermione, the quill spinning faster than ever.
"It was destroyed, shattered in a duel," he answered with a frown as he closed the book. "So, so much for that one."
Hermione ran a hand through her hair and shook her head a bit. "Well, we'll just have to keep on looking then, now wont we?" she said, reaching into her purse and feeling around for another set of books.
Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes, watching Hermione fumble through the bag. The emanating sounds as she shifted around its many contents really did make it seem as if there was a spacious warehouse in there. He wondered that if the situation ever arose in which they would need another hiding space, perhaps they would be able to fit in it.
Her arm returned with three more books, and she handed one to him as she opened up one for herself. Harry sighed. He had left Hogwarts behind to find the Horcruxes, yet here he was, seventeen years old, on a quest to kill the worst mass murderer ever known, and still studying old, raggedy librams like a student. He flipped through the ancient hard-cover, not really knowing what he was looking for. All that could be heard in the tent was the quiet noise of turning pages, the occasional scratch of quill on parchment, and the silent sound of wood cracking in the fire.
After an hour of research, Harry put the book down on his lap and stretched his arms as far over his head as he could reach. "Where's Ron when you need him?" he said, not really thinking about it.
Hermione looked up from her work and stared at Harry, her face still as if she was studying hard for an upcoming exam. "She's really cute when she's determined," mused Harry, and he smiled back at her as he returned back to his examination of The Black Book of Black Magic. He could tell that she was still looking at him, but the sound of a feather bristling through the air rhythmically informed him that she had returned to the task at hand.
"I miss him too," she said after a fifteen minute silence, causing Harry to look up at her in surprise. Of all things Harry had expected her to feel for Ron, longing was definitely not one of them. "I mean, he might be the biggest prat in the world, but he was still a good companion to have around."
Harry nodded slowly in agreement, returning to the book in front of him. The truth was, despite their argument and his betrayal, he really did want him back. As much as he loved Hermione's company, it wasn't the same without Ron around. Ron was like a brother, and he missed his companionship and sense of humor dearly. They could use all the help they could get at the moment, either way.
Also, having him around might distract him from the odd feelings he was starting to have regarding Hermione. After the night where she had slept in his arms, he had not been able to get a good night's sleep for more than a few hours. He kept waking up in the middle of the night, an emptiness in his heart which he could not explain. When it wasn't a sudden sadness, he woke up with his heart racing in fear. Silently, he would peer over or through the pillow wall to make sure that she was ok. It was as if he had to insure himself that she was still there with him, fearing that she had been taken away in the middle of the night. If he lost her too, if she left his life…
He felt a soft hand close around his, a shiver going up his spine. Looking up, he met Hermione's look of concern, responding with a questioning gaze of his own.
"You were shaking," she said in a soothing tone, the notes she had been working on tossed gently to her side. "What's wrong Harry?"
"Why did you stay with me, Hermione?"
The question had come suddenly and hung in the air, a cricket chirping somewhere in the distance outside. "Don't be silly," Hermione said with an eye roll. She had not thought too much as to why she had stayed, she just thought it was the obvious thing to do. It was an undeniable truth, like the ground being below their feet and the sky being above their heads.
But Harry had not taken the question so lightly. He continued to stare at her, trying to peek into her brain. "I'm being serious Hermione, why did you stay with me? I know you agreed with him, I heard you two whispering when you thought I was asleep. I saw you two jump apart suddenly and attempt to act as if nothing was happening whenever I came into the tent unexpectedly. You two seemed so synonymous in thinking. Why would you choose me over your boyf…over Ron?"
Hermione stopped what she was doing once again, but this time she met Harry's gaze. Never before had she seen such sincerity in his deep, green eyes, his soft voice melting her heart, a single tear rolling down the side of his cheek. This was not the strong, independent man that she had grown accustomed to, but rather he seemed much younger…much more vulnerable…so innocent. This was her best friend without the hardened exterior he had gained from years of heartache and pain. She had never before seen him so fearful, and for the first time in her seven years of acquaintanceship with him she realized how lonely he must be. To live such a tragic life and still be able to smile and move on, death always looming over him, the fate of the world resting solely on his shoulders. It must have been a horrible existence, but he had gone on strong. For himself, for his friends, for strangers who were dying by the handfuls each day, for his elders, for all those he had lost, for Ron…
…and for her.
"What if," Harry started, the words barely coming out of his throat as he held back his tears. He promised himself that he would not do this, not privately and especially not to anyone else. He had to remain resolved, despite how his quest tore holes into his heart. Slowly, his breathing erratic, he continued. "What if I can't do it Hermione? What if we can't find the other Horcruxes? Everyday we spend searching is one more day he has to plan, one more day he has to kill. Everyone expects me to save the world because I am the 'Chosen One' but nobody understands that for each new name in the Prophet's obituaries, I am the one responsible!"
Hermione had started to tear up. His speech was breaking her heart. She wished that there was something she could do to relieve Harry of his burden, but she felt so helpless.
Harry's vision continued to blur, but he could not bring himself to stop talking. "If I fail, millions will die because of me, Hermione. I just don't know if I can do this. I am fighting a losing war, and the more people I get attached to, the more people I end up saying goodbye to. I…" He was losing his restraint. No longer could he hold it in. He took a deep breath before finishing, "I'm just so scared!"
Hermione caught him just in time, holding him tightly against her as his armor finally crumbled. He clung to her as years of repressed emotion flowed out of his eyes and throat. Never before had he cried like this. It was as if a dam had ruptured in his heart. She ran his hands through his hair as she tried to comfort him, not caring that her own face was stained with tears. The pressure had finally caused him to collapse, and she knew that the only thing that kept him from plunging into hopeless despair was her embrace.
He continued to shake as the powerful tears consumed him, his face buried into Hermione's shoulder. In a hoarse voice, and through his uncontrollable sobbing, he expressed the horrible thought that he had never admitted to anyone, even himself.
"I don't want to die!"
Another wave of emotions consumed him, and his revulsions doubled. Hermione could no longer hold it in, as she too began to cry against him. Together, they held on to each other, letting the toils of war finally affect them.
"Harry, oh, Harry," was all Hermione could muster to say, but she did not have to say anymore. Secretly, she had repressed the notion which the prophecy had alluded to in their fifth year. She knew that there was a possibility that Harry would not come back after the final encounter. It was the single most depressing idea that had ever crossed through her mind. If Harry died without getting a chance to live a free life, to have the family he never had, to be happy…it would be the cruelest fate in the world. They held on to each other desperately, clinging for life itself.
"Promise me Hermione," Harry managed through sniffles, not able to face her directly in fear of another attack of sadness. "Promise you'll never leave me. I can't do this alone."
"I promise Harry, I promise," she whispered, her heart behind every single word. "I will always be by your side, until the end." A fresh set of tears streamed down her face as she buried it into his shoulder, squeezing him as hard as she could as if imprinting herself into his body, into his soul.
It was several hours before they tore themselves away from one another, the mirth of the room entirely drained, replaced with a feeling of bittersweet sorrow. The sun had set long ago, and all that remained was the omniscient glow of dying fire in the middle of the room. They silently dressed into their night clothes, neither wanting to break the solemnity of the moment. Together, they crawled into their respective sides of the bed, mere feet apart in reality but so far apart in spirit, both of them wishing that more could be said, that more could be done.
An ominous presence hung over them as they both closed their eyes in a feeble attempt to escape from the horrors of their world. Hermione had never been so depressed in her life, but she realized the importance of her presence. She had come along to help Harry with her mind, but now she realized that her role was much more than she had ever expected. Holding back the tears she wanted to cry for her best friend, she waved her wand and mumbled silently. Slowly, the pillows that separated their bodies floated to a corner, where they piled quietly one by one. Without even acknowledging the sudden change, and without uttering a single word, Harry crossed the threshold between them and took her body into his arms, holding her as he had once before. She pressed herself against him and let their bodies meld, sharing a connection they both knew they had with no one else as he shook so subtlety against her. She had promised him that she would always be with him, and for at least one night, she would show him that she was telling the truth.
Tomorrow they would part and return to their normal ways, but for tonight, the tears now flowing freely, silently from her eyes, Hermione would let Harry hold her fragile body as they both slowly fell into the peaceful, pristine world of endless dreams.