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She was crying again.
Harry lay in his bunk, his anger at Ron simmering. Hermione was on guard duty, sitting in the opening of the tent. He could tell she was trying to swallow her sobs, but he could still hear the sniffs and choked sounds that escaped. He felt the knot that had taken up residence in his stomach since Ron’s departure tighten. Harry had no desire to discuss his friend’s betrayal, but he also knew he should go and comfort her. She was, after all, one of his best friends.
My only best friend, he thought bitterly.
Sighing, he pulled himself out of his bunk and padded over to the entrance. She had her back to him, wrapped up in a blanket against the cold fall wind. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her forehead pressed to them, making her look small and forlorn. He sat down next to her without saying anything, tentatively draping his arm over her shoulders. To his alarm, his touch seemed to tear something loose in her and she turned to lean into his chest, breaking into full out sobs.
Harry held her and patted her back awkwardly as she cried. After what felt like ages, her tears gradually slowed and she sat up, wiping her face on her blanket.
“I’m sorry, Harry, I just --”
“It’s ok,” Harry cut her off. He really didn’t want to discuss Ron. She seemed to understand, because they sat quietly for a few minutes, staring out at the leaf strewn ground.
“I’m sorry I’ve let you down, Harry,” she said quietly.
Harry drew back to look at her, surprised. “What on earth do you mean?”
“I’ve been completely useless in the search for horcruxes. None of my books are of any help at all, and I’m at a loss as to where to even begin looking for answers.”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t blame you, Hermione. There’s no reason you should be expected to have all of the answers. And we wouldn’t even have the locket if it wasn’t for you. I never could have done that on my own.”
The guilt and wretchedness he’d felt for weeks welled up inside him. “Some way for me to repay you, dragging you around the countryside with no plan and no ideas,” he muttered.
“You didn’t drag me anywhere, “ she scoffed. “I chose to to come. And --” she hesitated before continuing, “I chose to stay.”
Harry was dubious, but said nothing. He appreciated Hermione’s sentiment, but Ron’s words rang in his head. We thought you knew what you were doing… We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do… We thought you had a real plan!
Anger flared in him again at the mess Dumbledore had left him in, and at Ron for leaving, but he sat silently next to her in the wandlight.
“You should go,” Harry said finally. “Find somewhere to be safe. This could take months, years even. I’ve given you every bit of information I have; there’s nothing else to go on. All we have is a horcrux we can’t destroy and a handful of riddles from Dumbledore. Your book, my snitch…” he trailed off, avoiding Ron and the deluminator. “I never should have let you come.”
There it was, the awful truth of their predicament, laid out before her. His stomach clenched at the fear that it would all be too much and she would walk away, but he didn’t have to wait long for Hermione’s response.
“Let me?” she snorted. “Since when are you in charge of my decisions, Harry Potter? Look at me.”
Harry raised his eyes to meet hers. Her face was blotchy from crying, but she held his gaze evenly, her look determined.
"I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “Where would I go? My parents don’t remember me, and I can’t exactly go back to Hogwarts. I’m not going to be safe anywhere in Britain until we bring down you-know-who. It’s all about the right of people like me - muggleborns - to be part of our world.”
She shook her head and looked back out at the night. “You saw them at the ministry, Harry. Snapping wands, imprisoning people… or worse. If anything, coming with you saved me.”
Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. She didn’t want to leave. He almost reminded her that she could seek refuge at the Burrow, but he held back. Perhaps he was selfish, but he didn’t know what he would do if she chose to go.
Her thoughts must have followed a similar path, because she continued softly, “No matter what happens, Harry, I’m going nowhere. I know we’re at an impasse right now, but we’ve been here before. Remember Nicholas Flamel? The basilisk? The dragon?”
Harry sighed. “You have to admit, it might be easier to face a dragon again.”
“True,” she smiled ruefully and laid her hand on his where it rested on his leg. “The point is, we’ve overcome obstacles together in the past, and we’ll do it again. We will, because we have to.”
The warmth of her hand on his broke through the isolation that had surrounded him for the past several weeks. He felt the first glimmer of hope he had known since they realized that the sword could destroy Horcruxes. She was the most rational person he knew, and if she believed they could succeed in destroying Voldemort, there had to be hope. But the road ahead of them seemed so long and unclear that he couldn’t stop another sigh as he looked over at her.
“How are we ever going to do this, Hermione?”
She took her hand off of his and turned to touch his cheek lightly. “I’m not sure yet,” she admitted, “but we’ll do it together.”
She dropped her hand and stretched, starting to yawn. “Would you mind taking watch since you’re up? You can come get me in a bit. I’ll let you sleep in in the morning.”
“Sure,” Harry replied. “And Hermione? Thank you.”
She smiled, a little sadly. “You’re welcome, Harry.” And she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
But at the last moment --later, he would wonder what made him do it -- Harry turned his head and their lips met.
Hermione stilled for the barest of seconds and then responded with a gentle kiss. He pressed closer, his hand coming up to her shoulder, before she pulled back. She regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before standing up and gently mussing his hair as she walked back into the tent.
“Goodnight, Harry.”