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Harry’s not sure when Ron and Hermoine decided to put him between them. He thinks it might have something to do with when he came back dripping wet from diving to get Gryffindor’s sword, and Hermoine said something about Hypothermia. That had been almost a week ago, and he still woke up with Ron and Hermoine wrapped around him.
He shifted, resisting the urge to sink back into the warm sleep he’d stirred from. They really needed to talk about this. He couldn’t waste so much just sleeping and wanting to sleep. Behind him, Ron wrapped his arms tighter around Harry and nuzzled his neck. Harry almost jumped out of his skin and hissed, “Ron.”
Ron sighed, warm breath tickling Harry’s neck. “Go back to sleep.”
Hermoine hummed in agreement and squeezed closer. Harry was wide awake now and hyperaware of the situation he found himself. He was very aware of Ron’s breath still on his neck of Hermoine’s chest pressed against his, and Ron’s pressed against his back, and he was very aware of both of their arms wrapped around him. Something was humming inside of him, something that had been silent for so long, and it hurt feeling buzz now.
He untangled himself from their grasp and sat up panting. Hermoine and Ron weren’t far behind in scrambling up beside him.
“Hey, mate, you okay?” Ron asked, putting a hand on Harry’s back while Hermoine peered into his face with concerned, almost pressed against his side. “You can tell us, Harry. Were we making you uncomfortable? I just thought you liked sleeping between us; you don’t have nightmares like you used to—“
“Hermoine, let him talk,” Ron cut in, amused.
Harry felt his whole face turn red hot. “It’s not… you’re—I mean, its fine. I just…” He took a deep breath and poured it out in a barely comprehensible rush, “Death Eaters are looking for us and what if we’re found. We need to be alert, and we can’t like that.”
For a moment they were both quiet. Hermoine looked intently into his face. He dropped his gaze from her probing eyes. “Harry… you don’t always need to be on guard.”
“That’s what the wards are for, mate.”
They hesitantly wrapped their arms around him, like they were protecting him from the world outside the tent. And Harry cried. He had a word for what the buzzing feeling was. Love.