Chapter 5: Drawings in the Snow
Hermione pulled hard down on her winter coat, cascades of snow dropping to the ground in little clumps. She was in the middle of her watch shift, the dark night illuminated slightly by the light of the stars reflecting on the snow which sat softly on the grass. The sky cried in a constant stream of tiny white angels, which landed to join their brothers and sisters scattered as far as Hermione could see. As usual, the night had been uneventful, not a creature stirring in the wilderness around her. Harry slept peacefully on their bed inside, which relieved Hermione's heart. He seemed happiest when he was sleeping, his entire presence showing no sign that he was anything but normal, except for the famous lightning shaped scar which marked his forehead.
Her head started to slip off the arm which was resting on her knee as she started to doze off. The trip was starting to take its toll on her, and although leaving her best friend was the last thing she would ever do, she could not help but long for a comfortable bed to call her own and meals of more substance than they had managed to scavenge from day to day. In an attempt to keep herself awake, she drove her boots into the ground repeatedly, the resulting crunch enough to keep her senses interested in the world of reality. She yawned, her stationary march slowing as drowsiness started to take over her again. As flakes continued to fall to the ground, her mind began to wander.
A blink and she was back at Hogwarts, huddled in a sobbing mess in the girls' bathroom as the lazy footsteps of a troll filled her heart with fear. Another blink, and she was gazing into a mirror, the form of a basilisk slithering quickly into view before her mind went blank. Yet another momentary darkness and she was flying, clutching onto Harry as together they flew on Buckbeak on their mission to rescue Sirius. Again her vision refocused, and she was walking into the Great Hall dressed in dazzling periwinkle, a messy-haired young man staring at her with his jaw dropped in the distance. The snow was falling slower now, as her vision blacked out, the only thing in Hermione's mind a voice calling her name, so filled with concern and fear that she could tell that its owner thought she had died. A gentle breeze chilled her body, and she was in an abandoned classroom, canaries spinning around her head as her heart had been torn once again by Ron, Harry trying to the best of his ability to comfort her. A flash of light this time, and she was sitting at Bill and Fleur's wedding, beaming at her best friend.
The sudden chill of snow penetrating her glove brought her back to reality. She had drooped forward in her daze, her right hand flat against the ground now, keeping her from tumbling forward entirely. The night had seemed to stop, the snow no longer falling. Hermione took a moment to intake the beauty of the twilight. It amazed her how despite the war unfolding around them, nature did not seem to notice. Despite the events of the past and present, life seemed to move on.
She brushed off her hands, pieces of snow descending lazily back to the earthy floor. After a moment, Hermione picked up a nearby stick and started to draw in the snow, the last image of her slideshow of memories still lingering in the front of her mind.
She did not know why, but she found that she could not stop thinking about weddings recently. More specifically, Harry's wedding. Her dreams seemed to be obsessed with the idea, but the bride always remained anonymous. But on some occasions, the image reversed. She would be the bride, her vision blurred by the veil. However, similar to her other dream, when the thin, white covering was lifted it would end, her not knowing the man that she intended to spend forever with.
A stick figure of a woman appeared etched in the snow. Slowly, carefully, Hermione added a veil behind her head. She then added a bouquet of flowers for the imaginary bride to hold. Sighing, Hermione stopped drawing to stare at the figure. Perhaps these visions were a hidden fear, a psychological reaction to the prospect of doom that followed them wherever they went. Truth be told, she did not know if she would survive to even have a wedding some day.
She began to draw with the stick again. Next to the woman she drew a question mark approximately the same size. Even if she had did survive to start a family, she had no clue who it would be with. Yes, she had thought that it might be Ron one day, but his absence had allowed her to see the lack of depth in their relationship. She traced over the question mark, increasing the depth of the imprint until she could see grass where snow used to be. It seemed like Ron was the only person to ever see her as more than a bookworm. Hermione frowned at the disappointing prospect. Was there nobody out there that would see her for the real her, for the beautiful person she was inside the rough, rule-abiding exterior? She mused this as she added arms to the top of the mystery grooms curved upper body, his left hand holding on to his spouse's right. With a sigh of finality, she added legs to the dot of the question mark, dropping the stick to her side.
There stood Hermione Granger in the snow, ready to be married with a smile on her face, but lacking someone to celebrate it with. The real Hermione placed her chin on her arms, staring with an empty heart at the chilling vision of her own future.
"It's sad really, Hermione Question Mark really doesn't roll off the tongue. Also, I don't think you would marry a man who didn't have a torso, although I think you could live with the oddly shaped head if you loved him enough."
Hermione jumped at the intrusion of her privacy. Over her shoulder stood Harry, obviously no longer sleeping, smirking at his best friend. He conjured a box of his own and sat next to her, still looking at the poor attempt at art Hermione had sketched into the cold, white canvas of snow.
"What's this all about, Hermione?" Harry asked, tilting his head as if the action would reveal more about the drawing. She responded with a shrug.
"You're up early, your shift doesn't start for an hour," Hermione said, glancing at her wristwatch.
"Couldn't sleep," Harry responded, now looking into the forest in the distance. "Beautiful night, though."
"Yes," Hermione said, trailing off. The snow had started again, a few flakes floating to the ground as if the sky was testing to make sure the area was safe. She wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to stave off the cold. Harry did the same, putting on his hat to keep his ears warm.
"Harry," said Hermione after a moment of silence. "Have you ever thought about the future?"
"Of course, always," Harry said, turning to look at Hermione who was now staring at her drawing. "We will find the Horcruxes, then I will have to face Vol…"
"No, Harry," said Hermione, her face blank as if she was seeing a different reality. "Not what will happen in a few days or weeks, I mean the future. Ten years from now, where do you see yourself?"
"Hermione, I might not even be alive in ten days!" said Harry.
Hermione sighed and got up. "Never mind, it was a stupid question." She started to move into the tent before her hand was grabbed by Harry's. Although he didn't know why, he could tell that he had hurt Hermione's feelings. He pulled her back to him and she sat down, deliberately not looking into his face.
"Hermione, what's wrong?"
"You've never thought about your future, that's what's wrong Harry," she said. "It seems as if your heart is set on dying."
The words hung in the air, striking at Harry's heart. He turned and put his hands around Hermione's head, forcing her to look at him. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes as she struggled to look away.
"Let go of me," she said, turning her gaze downward. She really did not want to have this conversation with Harry. All she wanted to do was be alone with her thoughts.
Harry let go of her head, instead putting a comforting hand on her leg, urging her to speak. "Hermione, why wont you tell me what's wrong?"
They sat there in silence. Hermione picked up her utensil and began to retrace the figures in the snow. Her breathing was erratic, Harry could tell, as if she wanted nothing more than to have a good cry. "Why doesn't anyone love me, Harry?"
The words had barely been audible, but Harry had definitely heard them. He squeezed her leg in reassurance. "Hermione, lots of people love you. Your parents, the Weasleys, me and Ron…"
"Not that kind of love, Harry," she said, looking at Harry with fierceness. "That kind of love…" She pointed the stick to the drawing as her ability to speak began to deteriorate.
Harry's gaze shifted to that of the stick-figure couple. He was at a loss of words. Trying to think of something reassuring to say involving Hermione and her love life, Harry realized how short of a story that actually was. There was Krum, yes, but as she had told him many times before it was more of a friendship then a relationship. Of course there was also Ron, but he dared not bring that topic up again. So instead of saying something wrong and hurt her feelings again, he opted for silence.
The quietness which ensued seemed only to reassure Hermione of her angst. "Sometimes," Hermione said, playing with a pile of snow near her foot, "I wish I was Ginny. Things would be much easier that way."
"Because you would be able to snog the famous Harry Potter whenever you like?" Harry said with a smirk. She turned to give Harry a piercing gaze. Obviously, this wasn't the time to make jokes, and Harry removed the smile from his face.
"Sorry."
"I mean, she is just perfect, isn't she?" Hermione continued, ignoring Harry's outburst completely. "Popular, athletic, pretty…everything I'm not. That life would be so much easier to live."
"Hermione, you are pretty," Harry said truthfully. He might not be able to deny the other two facts, but she had certainly blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Harry's eyes quickly went up and down her body, examining her. She had lost the awkward look and buck-teeth she had once had when he had met her, and her hair, although still quite messy, actually complimented the lightness of her face.
She laughed at Harry's response. "Thanks Harry, but you don't have to lie to me."
"I'm not lying," he said seriously. "Any guy would be stupid to not want to be with a girl like you. I mean, who needs all that superficial rubbish when they can have a girl who is smart, fun to be with, caring, understanding…"
Hermione scoffed. "Really? Because you know those are the types of girls you have fallen for, right Harry? The subtle, brainy girls in the background who get all the work done so all the eye candy can have their fun, right?"
Harry stopped to think. It was painfully obvious that what Hermione had said was correct. Both Ginny and Cho were the leaders among their clicks, and all boys seemed to fawn over them, not just Harry. Likewise, both were excellent quidditch players, but truth be told there really was no essence underneath the exterior. Harry felt ashamed that he had been so shallow.
"Hermione…"
"No, its fine Harry, really," she said, waving her hand as if it would make her negativity disappear. "It's just…well it may seem silly, but I have thought about the future. A lot lately," she added as a second thought. Hermione cut off Harry as he attempted to talk. "I want to have kids, Harry. I want to be a mom."
"Well, I don't think I could really help you with that one right n…Oww!" Harry said, his sentence interrupted when Hermione's fist crashed into his side.
"I keep having this dream where everyone I know is at my wedding, and they are crying tears of joy and cheering for us…my husband and I, that is," Hermione said when Harry gave her a look with raised eyebrows. "But the problem is," she paused to add a tuft of hair on the snow groom in front of her, "I never see who his face is."
"It's only a dream, Hermione. One day you'll find the guy who will sweep you off your feet and treat you like you deserve to be treated."
The stick dropped once again as Hermione gave her full attention to Harry. "I doubt that…"
"No really, don't you believe in soul mates Hermione?"
"Of course not! The notion that there is one and only one person in the world who you can share eternal happiness with is ridiculous. I mean, the mathematical possibilities are so highly unlikely, and assuming you only meet a fraction of the entire world's population within your life time, to think that you can only…"
"Alright, alright Hermione," said Harry, causing her to stop mid-rant. "Parents never read you fairy tales as a kid, I take it?"
She blushed. "Actually yes, believe it or not I was obsessed with them until I got to Hogwarts. Back then, I always hoped that one day I would find my own Prince Charming who would take me away to his magic castle where we could live happily ever after." Despite her previous depression, Hermione couldn't help but smile. "But back then, I thought that magic was a fantasy too, something which could take you away from the hardships of the world." She stopped talking, the smile fading from her face as quickly as it had appeared.
Harry had a glum expression on his face too. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes, I think that Muggles have it easier than we do."
The snow had hastened its fall, and instinctively the two moved closer together in an attempt to ward off the approaching storm. "The thing about love," Harry said. He had been thinking about the idea ever since they had started the conversation. "It's all trial and error. That's why I'm glad you're not like Ginny and Cho."
Hermione's interest peaked. "What do you mean?"
"Well, if you were like them then you wouldn't be like you," Harry said simply, which caused Hermione to laugh.
"You're a real master of words, Harry."
"No seriously. I've never been around girls my age before I came to Hogwarts, and if it weren't for you the females I would have known in school would have only been Ginnys and Chos," Harry said, realizing truly how unique Hermione was and that the majority of his female classmates were either obsessed with boys or obsessed with sports. "You're one in a million Hermione, don't be like the others and just date and snog any boy who gives you the time of day. You're a precious treasure, and you should save yourself for somebody special."
Hermione was beet red now, hoping that her blush could be blamed on the snow that was flying at her face rather from the words that were coming from Harry. Harry always knew what to say to cheer her up. He was always there when she needed him, and although it may seem like she never left his side, he had rarely left hers. True, they had spats over things in the past (the Half-Blood Prince fiasco jumped to the front of her mind), but they never came to bitter fruition like his and her fights with Ron had.
Lost in her thoughts, Hermione didn't realize that she had been staring at him. Also, it seemed as if he had resumed talking, but she only could hear brief snippets.
"There will be some guy out there who will take care of you when you can't take of yourself, Hermione…"
As if on cue, an image of Harry coming up to her in the hallway with her books came into mind. She remembered that she had stormed out of potions ready to cry over Ron again, but he had taken the time to pick up her things after she had left them on their table.
"…and he will always be there to protect you…"
She recalled the moment when Hagrid had dragged them to the Forbidden Forest in their fifth year to meet Grawp. Harry guarded her and held on to her as the giant confused them as strangers who had intruded on his home.
"…someone who needs you as much as you need him…"
Her mind flashed back to three years prior, when a desperate Harry had consulted her to find a way to summon his broomstick for the first Triwizard task. They had stayed up all night in an empty classroom in attempts to perfect the spell.
"…and he will never make you cry, although he is the only one worth crying for…"
She was now staring right into Harry's eyes. He had never made her cry, but the slightest notion of him being in peril made her want to bawl her eyes out.
"…not to mention you he should be fanciable. Yes, it is shallow, but hey if we're going for perfect here…"
Harry expected her to smile at the comment, but her face seemed frozen in shock. It eerily reminded him of when she had been paralyzed by the basilisk.
"Hermione, is everything…"
He never had a chance to finish the sentence before he was encompassed in her arms, as she began to laugh. Hermione could tell that he had caught him off-guard, for he did not hug her back for a few moments, but she didn't care. All she wanted to do at that moment was hug her best friend.
"Oh Harry," was all she said before another wave of laughter took over her.
Harry couldn't help but grin broadly at the sudden shift of tone. He loved her laugher. It was probably the best sound he had ever heard. Making her happy made him happy, and together they laughed in glee.
A moment later she ended the hug. He kept his arms around her and looked into her smiling face. Their eyes locked and the world around them disappeared. It was no longer snowing, the feeling of cold was long gone from their body. They were alone. Harry realized that the smile had fallen from Hermione's face. He looked into her eyes, and all he could see was burning determination. It was as if she had suddenly remembered a forgotten prerogative, and in this moment she was ready to complete her objective. Harry continued to look into her beautiful, brown eyes. Had they always been so deep? So wide? So…warm?
He saw her lick her lips subtly, a motion which caused sparks to fly in his chest. His heart was thumping wildly, and suddenly his body temperature had risen out of control. Hermione's lips were seducing him, inviting him to cross the line they had never discussed crossing before.
"Harry," she whispered, her hands finding their way from his hips to the back of his neck, cradling it. "What's happening?"
Her eyes were sparkling with desire, and she could see that he had the same look on his own face. "I don't know…" his voice trailed off as his grip around her waist tightened, pushing them closer. "But…"
His neck tilted slightly, his breath tickling Hermione's neck and sending electricity through her body. Her heart was racing, and she had never wanted anything more in her life then for the space between them to disappear. She closed her eyes, and could tell that their lips were only inches apart.
They were so close now, the two best friends about to cross the threshold into a world beyond friendship. The air they breathed was the same, and their hearts beat in unison as the inches between them began to disappear.
"Harry…"
And then it happened. After almost an hour of anticipation, the event that neither of them had planned to occur did.
The watch Harry received as a birthday present rang, signaling that it was his turn to wake up and take over Hermione's shift.
Their eyes opened at the sudden noise, and the moment was over. They saw that the snow was coming down at a constant pace, the moon hung distantly above them, and that their lips were about to touch. The sudden realization caused them to jump apart, Harry nearly falling off of his box.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry Hermione…"
"No no, I was caught up in the moment, I swear I didn't mean to…"
"Me neither, phew. Good thing we stopped, huh?" said Harry, his heart still racing. He had almost kissed Hermione, the realization hitting him with an outstanding force. More accurately, his temporary lapse of instinct over logic had almost caused him to ruin his friendship with his best friend.
"Yes," Hermione responded, gasping for air. "That would have been bad."
Harry laughed half-heartedly, trying to make light of the situation. "Well, I guess it's my shift officially now. I'm just going to…err….go grab my wand from the tent, yeah. I'm going to go do that now."
"Yes, that would be a good idea," said Hermione hastily, avoiding looking at him.
"Ok, I'll do that then." She heard the tent entrance flap open swiftly and a little bit of a tumble as he tripped into the lodging. "Sorry! I'm alright, I promise."
Hermione stood up and paced around. She was going insane. She had almost kissed Harry, her best friend. Her very platonic best friend who just so happened to fit every criteria she ever looked for in a man. Taking deep breaths to slow her heartbeat, she closed her eyes. "Hermione Granger, you will NOT fall for Harry Potter. He is not yours, he belongs with somebody else. Who that is, you don't know, but it is definitely not you despite how perfect he is...no, stop thinking like that. YOU WILL NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH HARRY POTTER!" she hummed to herself, trying to banish the moment they had just shared out of her brain.
Hoping that Harry had not witnessed her temporary insanity, she opened her eyes. In front of her was the drawing she had made before, the bride still holding on to the hand of the question mark groom. She kneeled down and smiled. Reaching out with her right index finger, she slowly drew a lightning-shaped mark above his head. "Someday, I'll find my own Harry."
She stood up smiling and took out her wand, burning the image in front of her into her mind. "But," she said audibly to nobody except herself, "It will most definitely NOT be the Harry Potter." With one swift stroke and a small incantation, the ground where the drawing had been melted away. Making sure not to come into any sort of contact with Harry on the way, she made her way inside the tent, looking forward to getting a good night's sleep.