A/N: Hello again, everyone! I know I haven't written anything in a long time, and I sincerely apologize for neglecting my very wonderful readers for so long. I had (and still have) an absolutely monstrous case of writer's block that just refuses to go away, which has made writing anything vaguely good very difficult for me these past few months. To help apologize for my lack of activity, here is a short piece that I have been waiting to finish for quite a while now. I'm pretty sure that plenty of stories have been written around this general idea, but I thought I would try my hand at it anyway, just to see how it would turn out. Enjoy!
Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter. I wish I did, but I don't. I just like to pretend that I do.
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In the back of his mind, Harry vaguely wondered if this was the quietest he had ever been on the train ride back to King's Cross. He figured that it must be, as he was used to joking around with Ron and the twins during the trip, not staring aimlessly out the window at the passing countryside as he found himself doing at the moment. It was to be expected, he supposed, considering that Ron had recently been extracted from their compartment by a very persuasive Fred and George, who had lured him away from his friends with promises of as many sweets as he liked from the infamous trolley. Ron, who had already been salivating a little over the large bag of gold that had recently been passed from Harry to the twins, had been more than willing to follow his brothers, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the compartment.
It had all been planned, of course. Harry had seen to that a week ago, though he hadn't told the twins about his intention to give them the gold until the very last second. His insistence that they take it had been very much reinforced by the fact that he would have been able to threaten to chuck the bag out the compartment window if they had refused, a fact that he had been counting on in his plan to force them to accept his offer. He didn't want the money, both because he really didn't need it and because of the unpleasant events it represented.
The plan had gone perfectly, just as Harry had hoped, and the compartment would now be Ron-free for at least five or ten minutes while his redheaded best mate convinced a certain kindly old woman to sell him her entire stock of treats, trolley included. The problem was that Harry's plan had stopped at the point where Ron shut the compartment door behind him. Everything from here on out would have to be improvised, a fact that made Harry grimace inwardly. This sort of thing was most definitely not his forte.
He finally got bored with the blurred greens and browns of the passing fields and turned his gaze on the inside of the box-like space in which he found himself. It was still early in the day, the weather was clear, and the entire compartment was consequently well-lit, making the smooth red material of the seats glow and the metal luggage rack above his head glint from time to time. Hermione, on the other end of the bench-like seat, had taken advantage of the light and was sitting with her back to the wall and her knees bent in front of her, passing the time by looking through yet another of her seemingly unending supply of books. Harry smiled slightly as he watched her turn the pages, a peaceful expression on her face. She seemed, he mused, completely unaware of his presence only a few feet away from her. And why shouldn't she be, he thought, when she had a comfortable spot in the sun and what seemed to be an interesting book in her hands?
He would have to interrupt her reading, though, if only for a few moments. He wondered if it might be a better idea to leave her alone and let her enjoy her sunny corner of the compartment, but quickly thought better of it. He had put this plan together a week ago; now was not the time to get cold feet and let everything go to waste. He swallowed quietly and got up from his spot beside the window, moving to sit beside her on the other side of the compartment. She gave him a quick glance and returned to her reading. He sat in silence for a few moments before he finally found his voice.
"Hermione?"
"Mm?" she replied vaguely, still absorbed by her book.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked.
"Sure," she replied, not looking away from her reading.
"It's… kind of important," he said cautiously, trying to be polite.
She got the message, carefully folded the corner of her page, and set the book down on the seat in front of her. Folding her arms on her bent knees, she turned to him and asked, "What's up?"
"Um…" he said lamely, thinking that it might have been a better idea to let her half-listen to him while she read. Her expectant look had caught him off-guard.
A few moments passed before Hermione's expression shifted from one of cheerful interest to one of slight concern. "Is everything all right, Harry?"
"Yes," he quickly assured her. "Yes, everything's fine, I just… wanted to ask you something," he explained.
"Well, go on, then," she prompted, looking less concerned. "Ask away."
"Um…" he said again. "Well, it's just… A lot has happened these past few weeks, hasn't it?" he started, trying to make something coherent out of the mess of words in his head.
"Yes," she agreed softly. "An awful lot."
"A lot of stuff has changed, too, hasn't it?" he continued.
She nodded.
"I mean, things are going to be really different now, aren't they?"
"I suppose they will," she agreed.
He nodded slowly, and the two lapsed into silence for a few moments before Hermione spoke again.
"Was that all you wanted to ask me, Harry?" she enquired, sounding a tad confused.
"No," he said hastily. "No, it wasn't…" But he didn't quite know how to put what he really needed to ask into words.
"Well…" she prompted again, helping him along. After more than three years, he mused, she probably knew that he wasn't exactly a master of the English language when it came to expressing himself.
"Well," he tried again, "it's like I said before, things are going to be really different from now on, and I just… I need to know…" He stalled yet again, trying to think of some way to communicate his question to her without sounding utterly pathetic.
"Go on," she said gently, looking a mite concerned once more.
He took a quiet breath and forced the words out. "I need to know whether or not you'll stay," he finally said.
She blinked. "Stay?" she repeated, obviously not understanding what he meant.
"With- with me, I mean," he tried to explain. "Because, like I said, everything's going to be different now, with Voldemort back and everything, and… I dunno… maybe that's… you know… too much to ask of someone, or…" He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm saying," he groaned, looking down at his knees. He really was terrible at this.
He was therefore quite surprised when she reached out and took his hand. Looking up, he found her giving him a small, understanding smile.
"It's all right, Harry," she said. "I know what you mean."
"You do?" he asked, relieved.
"I think I do, anyway," she said. "And the answer is yes," she added.
This time, Harry was the one who blinked. He had been expecting any answer but that one, any way of letting him down gently, any number of perfectly valid reasons why she couldn't continue to be his friend. Anything, anything but a yes.
"Are you sure?" he asked before he could stop himself.
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Harry, don't be silly."
"I wasn't-"
"I know you weren't trying to be," she assured him, still smiling. "But you were anyway."
"What's so silly about wanting to know-?" he started, but she cut him off again.
"It's not a silly question, Harry," she said. "In fact, it's actually quite a serious question. What's silly is the fact that you ever thought you had to ask it."
Harry was taken aback. "What do you mean?"
She gave his hand another gentle squeeze. "What could possibly have made you think that I wouldn't stay?"
He couldn't keep his mouth from falling open ever so slightly. What hadn't made him think that she would want to get out of this before she got in over her head? What hadn't made him think that she would have to be a complete madwoman to keep hanging around a boy who could-no matter how much it pained him to think about it-very easily be her ticket to an early grave?
"I- I don't…" he stammered, unable to come up with any sort of response in his surprise.
"Harry…" she said, shaking her head good-naturedly. "Did you honestly think that I was going to desert you now, after almost four whole years? I mean, let's face it, hanging around you is always going to be dangerous," she pointed out. "Wouldn't you think that I would have left by now if I really wanted out?"
"I- I guess so, but…" he said, torn between wanting to hug her for her loyalty to him and wanting to convince her that she was making a big mistake.
"But what?"
"I just don't want to drag you any further into this whole mess," he managed to say. "I know what it's like to have to fear for your life every single day, and the last thing I want to do is make you feel that way too," he explained.
Her expression darkened a little. "Harry, I'm going to be fearing for my life no matter who my friends are, now that V-Voldemort is back," she said with a small frown, looking at her knees. "You know that just as well as I do."
"Yes, I do know that," he agreed. "And the last thing I want you to do is make that situation worse by hanging around the one person that Voldemort wants dead more than anyone else," he said, finally thinking to return the pressure on his hand.
She remained quiet for a few moments, still frowning, before she finally asked, "Do you not want to be friends with me anymore, Harry?"
Once again, Harry was stunned. "No!" he exclaimed without thinking, then grimaced inwardly when he realized how it sounded. "I mean, yes, I do still want to be friends with you," he assured her quickly. "Why would you think that I didn't?"
"Well, you're certainly not acting like you do," she said, "trying to tell me why I shouldn't be around you from now on, right after I told you that I'd stay. You'd think you wanted me to desert you."
Harry let out a frustrated sigh. "That wasn't what I was trying to say," he said. "I'm glad that you want to stay with me," he assured her. "Really, I am. But it's just… I don't understand why you would do that for me," he tried to explain. "I mean, you're putting yourself in even more danger than you're already in, even though you don't have to, and I don't know why…"
This time, she was the one to look surprised. "You don't?"
"No, I really don't," he said, shaking his head to emphasize his point. "Oof!" he added a moment later, finding himself pulled into a tight hug. "Hermione?"
"You're my best friend, Harry," she said as she squeezed the breath from his lungs. "You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I know," he replied.
"And you know that I never, ever want anything bad to happen to you, right?" she continued.
"I… I guess so," he answered.
She finally allowed him to breathe as she loosened her hold on him a bit. "Then why on Earth would I leave you to fend for yourself when you're going to need your friends more than ever?"
"I… really don't know," he admitted, beginning to wonder why he had been so concerned about losing her friendship in the first place. Of course she wasn't about to leave. This was Hermione, after all. Hermione, who had stuck with him through everything for the past four years. Hermione, who had always been there when no one else had seemed to care what happened to him. What had he been thinking, being afraid that she was about to turn around and walk out on him? She wouldn't do that to him, and he knew it.
She released him from her grip and he settled back against their shared seat, keeping one hand joined with hers as he did. There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke up again, a sudden thought occurring to him.
"I guess you must think that I don't trust you much," he said. "You know, for talking about any of this in the first place," he added as an explanation.
She smiled understandingly and shook her head. "No, Harry, I don't think that."
"You don't?" he asked, relieved.
"Not at all," she assured him, gently squeezing his hand again. "I don't blame you for wondering who's going to stay loyal to you when things get rough. I mean, you got an excellent lesson in the ways that friends can turn on each other last year, when we found out about Pettigrew and your parents, and then there was the way Ron acted earlier this year…" She trailed off, frowning at the memories. "Well, I certainly don't blame you for wanting to know which people you can trust. And I can assure you that I'm one of them," she told him, her tone firm and decided.
This time, he was the one who pulled her into a tight hug.
"Thank you," he said quietly as he let her go. "For… for wanting to stay, I guess."
She chuckled and twined her fingers with his once more. "You're stuck with me, Potter, whether you like it or not," she declared.
"I like it," he said honestly, slightly distracted by the fact that she was holding his hand again. It was… nice, he decided, if a bit strange.
There was a short pause before she replied, "Me too, Harry. Me too."
Had he been paying more attention, he would have noticed that she was blushing a light shade of pink.
The rest of the trip passed without incident. Ron returned to their compartment a few minutes after his two friends had finished talking, and was surprised to find Harry and Hermione sitting side-by-side despite the ample amount of space around them, Hermione reading a book one-handed and doing something that Ron had never seen her do before: holding hands with Harry. Harry, for his part, sat gazing out the window, a contented smile on his lips. Wondering what had happened but not knowing how to ask, Ron took a seat across from the two, causing them to realize what they were doing and quickly slide a foot or two apart. Ron decided that he would rather not ask what was going on, and busied himself with his armful of sweets instead.
When the train stopped at Platform 9 ¾, the trio gathered up their belongings and said their goodbyes, just as they had done for the past three years. Harry, however, got a pleasant surprise when, as Hermione pulled him into their third hug in the past few hours, he felt her gently brush her lips against his cheek, making the two of them grin and turn rather red for a moment before she hurried off to join her parents. As Harry followed suit and grudgingly joined the Dursleys, who stood frowning at all who passed them, he finally felt free of any doubts about whether or not he was going to have Hermione around for the next few years. She was definitely going to stay, just as she had promised, and no matter what life might have in store for him in the future, he felt certain that he was going to be happy that she had.
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