Chapter Text
When asked about it later, Harry would admit that "the whole bloody thing was one giant cock-up." Hermione would agree. How he managed to Apparate them out of Bathilda's house she would never know; she could only chalk it up to his normal, unusually good luck and ability to operate perfectly under immense pressure. However, when they arrived back at their tent, Harry was screaming and moaning and obviously in a lot of pain as he alternately clutched his head and clawed at his chest. The first she understood. The latter made no sense to her, unless…
The horcrux!
Of course it would react to being in Voldermort's presence. Calming herself enough to levitate Harry, she maneuvered him onto his and ripped open his shirt. The locket was seared to his chest!
Hermione tried every spell she could think of the pry it off his chest- she banished it, she summoned it, she even tried to put a shield bubble around it, all to no avail. Finally, she resorted to petrifying Harry and very carefully using a severing spell to cut it from his chest. She quickly flung it elsewhere and released him, summoning the dittany from her bag and getting to work on his wounds. As she worked and even after she finished, Harry continued to moan and cry and occasionally scream.
She sat with him through the night, praying he would wake and be all right. Finally, just before dawn, he started moaning coherent sentences, and she began trying to wake him from his fitful state.
"Harry," she cried gently as she shook his shoulder lightly, "it's okay, we're safe!"
"No! Mione. Run! " he wailed.
Her heart constricted. "It's okay," she cooed. "I'm okay, you're okay, we're safe."
After a few more rounds of Hermione assuring him they alright, Harry blearily opened his eyes. He took in her haggard appearance and quickly put together the gist of what was going on.
"How long was I out?" he asked quietly, dismayed that he was the source of her weariness.
"Several hours. You were moaning and screaming for a lot of it, so it just felt like more. You were really very ill, and I was worried," she explained. "I also had to cut the horcrux off your chest. It had somehow become seared to your skin." She shuddered at the memory.
Harry opened his mouth to blame himself, but Hermione cut him off.
"I don't want to hear any more out of you until you've rested. Hush, and go back to sleep," she ordered.
He gratefully fell into a deep slumber, and Hermione waited until he was well asleep to curl up next to him and cry quietly, eventually falling asleep at his side.
Harry woke many hours later to something warm and soft being removed from his side. Instinctively he reached to pull it back and got a handful of curly hair.
He released it and sat up, smiling at his best friend who now stood next to his bed. She did not look happy.
"Sorry, Mione. Didn't mean to pull your hair."
She stood silently, and as her face grew redder, Harry felt himself pale. Then she erupted.
"SORRY?! All you've got to say for yourself is SORRY?! You nearly died on me- AGAIN- and you go with SORRY?!" she screeched. She reached down and began swatting his shoulder. Dodging her blows, Harry grabbed her arms and pulled her down into his lap. She moved surprisingly obediently, collapsing into him as she began sobbing.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she blubbered, "I was just so scared. I had to send my parents away. Ron's already left. I couldn't lose you too."
Harry softly pressed his lips to her hair and shushed her. "Come on now, Mione. You have to know you can't get rid of me that easily. Others have tried." He heard her chuff a small, wet laugh. "Seriously though, Mione. I'm not leaving. Not ever. One troll incident and you're stuck with me for life." At this, he felt her relax, and her sobs dissipated to the occasional sniffle.
The two friends remained in the intimate position for nearly an hour, not that they could have told you that. All they knew was that in that moment, they had each other, and for now it was enough.
Due to the emotional toll of their Christmas Eve escapades, the pair slept quite late into Christmas morning. They prepared a quick brunch, and Harry moved outside to begin his watch. He'd just settled in for the long haul when he felt more than heard Hermione approach his seat at the entrance of the tent.
"Would you mind some company?" she asked quietly.
Harry looked up, and he could see that last night clearly still had his best friend spooked. As much as he preferred to be alone while he had to wear the horcrux, he couldn't deny her the comfort of his presence.
"Sure," he replied, "have a seat."
Hermione dropped into place beside him, and the two sat in companionable silence as the hours stretched on. The peace was finally broken as Harry's stomach gave a great growl, causing Hermione to snicker.
She stood, saying, "I'll go get dinner started. Hope you like mushrooms."
As she turned to go into the tent, Harry gripped her arm.
"Wait, Mione. Look out there," he whispered.
She turned and looked out into the forest in front of him. Just beyond the treeline, she could make out a glowing shape. Harry leaped to his feet and made to follow it until Hermione pulled him back.
"Hold on a minute," she told him, "We don't know what that thing is or what it's doing here."
"It's a patronus! We have to follow it," Harry insisted. When Hermione just raised an eyebrow at him, he retorted, "What form did it look like to you?"
Hermione looked back at the silvery creature. Slowly, she said, "It kind of looks like… Prongs… but without the… oh. OH, Harry, it's a doe. Wasn't your mother's patronus a doe?"
"YES! That's why we have to follow it! I don't know how, but she's taking me somewhere I need to go," he proclaimed.
"Well then I'm coming too!" she cried. She ran back inside and snatched her beaded bag. When she returned, Harry had already begun removing their wards. Together, they cleared the campsite in only a couple minutes.
Grabbing her hand, Harry took off into the woods at a jog. They followed the bright creature for at least twenty minutes over increasingly rough terrain, occasionally losing sight of it in the underbrush. Just when Hermione was beginning to worry, they broke into a clearing with a large frozen pond. The doe's glowing form walked to the middle of the pond, scratched at the surface, and disappeared.
"NO!" Harry screamed as he lunged for where the patronus had been. Hermione yanked him back.
"Harry, it's gone," she soothed "You can't bring it back." The young man hung his head in dismay. She continued, "But clearly, she wanted to show us something. I think there's something at the bottom of the pond. If you look at where she was standing, there's still a faint glow coming from beneath the ice, right there in the center."
Hermione quickly cast the featherweight charm on them both and allowed Harry to tug her onto the ice. When they reached the spot of lingering brightness, neither could believe what they saw at the bottom of the pond.
The sword of Godric Gryffindor.
The two teens stared at each other in disbelief.
"How in the bloody hell did it get down there?" Harry mused.
"The last we heard, it was at Hogwarts. Someone had to have brought it here for us and led us straight to it," Hermione reasoned.
Harry swallowed thickly. "Mum…"
Hermione shook her head, saying, "Harry, I would love for it to be your mum too, but realistically it can't be her. Surely there are other people whose patronus is a doe."
"Why do you have to bring logic into this," he moaned.
"Sorry, Harry." She grimaced. "What I don't understand is why they would bring us all the way here and hide it in a pond. Why not just leave it on a tree stump or something?"
"It's the sword of Gryffindor," Harry stated simply. Hermione just stared at him. "It will make itself available to any true Gryffindor in their time of need," he continued. "We obviously have to prove that we are true Gryffindors and dive down to retrieve it."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the thought. "Obviously," she said tartly, "Well, just step back while I cut a hole." She expertly cut a three-foot circle in the surface of the pond, and then Harry stepped forward, shrugging off his coat.
"Harry James Potter, just what do you think you're doing?" she snapped.
"I'm going down there, Mione. It's my fault we're in this mess in the first place. I'm not about to let you freeze to death," he replied.
"And I'm not about to let you do something this bloody stupid either! You nearly died less than twenty-four hours ago, in case you've forgotten," she hissed.
"But my wonderful healer has nursed me back to health," he bargained.
Hermione stared at him, waiting for him to acquiesce. Harry, not being one to back down, returned her hard gaze. She concluded that she was arguing with possibly the only person in the world who was more stubborn than her.
"Fine," she sighed, "But you don't have to strip down." She very efficiently transfigured his clothing into a muggle wetsuit.
"Blimey, Mione," Harry said appreciatively. "This is great!"
"Yes yes yes, now let's not dilly dally. Hand me the locket," she ordered.
A dark shadow crossed Harry's face. Shaking himself, he realized that she was right yet again. If he dropped it while he was down there, he'd have to dive back down to retrieve it, and finding a locket in the muck would be much more difficult than grabbing a sword. He removed it and handed it over, watching it coil in her palm. She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Careful, Harry," she murmured, and then she cast the Bubble-head charm over him.
Harry grinned at her and dove in. What felt like an eternity later he surfaced, brandishing the sword like the conquering hero he was.
"Right, let's finish this!" he crowed
"Here? Now?" Hermione squeaked.
"No time like the present. If we do it now, there will be one less piece of this bastard in the world. That's what we've been working for, isn't it?" he insisted.
She gulped and then nodded. She quickly cast a drying charm on Harry and transfigured his clothes back, and he led her to a nearby stump. Hermione placed the locket on the stump, and she was shocked when she turned around to see Harry holding out the sword to her.
"You get to do this one, Mione. I've done the diary, Dumbledore did the stone. It's your turn. You deserve to kill off a piece of this bastard."
Shakily she took the sword. "How do I do this?" she asked. "Do I just take a swing at it and hope for the best?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I've been thinking. I think Voldemort would have wanted to make sure only he could get to them. I think I need to speak to it."
With no more warning, he began hissing at the locket, and it fell open. Hermione moved forward to stab it when a thick, ominous gray mist poured from it. The mist swirled into a picture, a vision of her leaning over Harry's dead body, weeping.
"You couldn't do it!" Mist Hermione wailed, sobbing into dead Harry's chest. "He's dead! They're all dead, and it's all your fault!"
Hermione stood paralyzed as the scene panned out, showing the corpses of Ron, her parents, the rest of the Weasleys, her classmates. She could vaguely hear Harry yelling at her to stab the locket, but she couldn't. What if this thing could really see the future, see how she failed everyone in the end?
She shook herself. No. This bloody thing played on each of their deepest fears and insecurities.
Sensing her growing determination, Mist Hermione began screaming again. "This is your fate! You can't change it! There will be nothing and no one left for you, you filthy Mudblood!"
This would not be her future. She would help Harry defeat Voldemort, save her family and friends, and live a long, fruitful life. She would not let what this damn bit of soul promised come true. She would write her own story. Gathering her strength, she surged forward and slammed the blade into the window of the locket. The sound of twisting metal filled the air as the mist was sucked back into the horcrux. All was quiet for a moment until suddenly a loud wail that threatened to burst their eardrums and a cloud of dense black smoke erupted from the locket.
After a few seconds, everything was silent.
Harry rushed forward, pulling Hermione into a rib-crushing hug.
"I am so bloody proud of you, Mione. Are you okay?" he asked, pulling back to examine her.
"I'm fine. I just… wow. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that," she said.
Neither said anything further as Harry pulled her back to his chest. She sighed contentedly, feeling safe in her best friend's arms. He buried his nose in her hair and took a deep breath.
"How many times am I gonna have to promise you, Mione? I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to leave you, ever," he vowed.
He pulled back again and looked down into her brown orbs, glassy with unshed tears. Gently pushing her back from her face, he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers, lingering for just a moment. Hermione gasped slightly and met his determined gaze.
She gave him a soft smile, saying, "Good. Because I'm planning on following you around for a long time, Potter."
He beamed triumphantly and leaned down to kiss her again, more deeply this time. When they separated, they stood grinning goofily at each other.
Hermione was the first to return to reality. "If he comes back, Ron is NOT going to take this well," she speculated.
Harry groaned, "Ugh, I know you're right, but why did you have to bring that up now? And I finally got you, and I'm not letting you go." She grinned at him. "Besides," he said, "he's not here now. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
As he leaned down to kiss her yet again, they heard branches cracking underfoot. Hermione quickly drew her wand and pointed it in the direction of the noise. A small ball of blue light floated into the clearing, followed by a familiar head of red hair.
"Merlin, am I glad to see the pair of you!" Ron exclaimed. "I've got so much to tell you." He glanced down at the stump beside him, and his eyes widened. "Looks like you've got some news for me, too."
Harry and Hermione shared a glance, coming to a silent agreement.
"Yeah, man," Harry replied, reaching out to grasp Hermione's hand, "We've got a lot to tell you, too."