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A cold wind blustered past a tent set up in the middle of the thick woods, as a steady blanket of rain pattered down upon it. The two people inside the tent huddled closer together, not because they were solely cold- they had a jar of bluebell flames between them, not to mention the heavy quilts draped over them- but because they needed comfort and the reassurance that even though the world had crashed and burned down around them, they still had each other.
Hermione pulled the quilt tighter around her and Harry’s body and let out a deep sigh. She just couldn’t sleep, and neither could Harry. They’d spent hours snuggled up on Harry’s bunk around the bluebell flames, pouring over book after book and trying to find a lead on the Horcruxes, but to no avail. And even though their hours of scanning through books had rendered them exhausted, their nerves and the constant fear that came with being on the run kept them awake.
Hermione set a book down on her lap and idly ran her fingers along the pages, her mind elsewhere.
She felt Harry shuffle closer and her heart gave a funny little lurch as he placed his head upon her shoulder.
This feels nice, she thought, still getting used to this new territory with her and Harry’s relationship; and with that, a new, more physically affectionate Harry.
“Hey, Hermione?” said Harry.
“Yeah?”
“You can close the book now,” he said softly.
“But-”
“No, it’s alright, we can go through that in the morning. I think we’ve had enough for today,” Harry said with a slight yawn.
Hermione smiled despite herself, “If you say so.”
“Do you want me to put out the flames?” she asked, peering down at him.
“No, I’m not really sleepy,” he replied.
“Well, your yawns tell me otherwise,” she said with a light chuckle.
Hermione set the jar of flames on the bedside stool and pulled Harry down onto the bed with her and he wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her in soothing warmth.
“I’m still not sleepy,” said Harry against her shoulder after a moment.
“What do you suppose we do?” asked Hermione.
“Talk. Something casual, you know, to take our mind off the present.”
Hermione hummed in assent.
Harry paused for a moment before blurting out, “What’s your favourite colour?”
“My favourite colour?” laughed Hermione. “Uh, well, I suppose it’s blue?”
“Yeah that makes sense,” said Harry slowly, shifting his head and gazing into her eyes.
“Why do you say that?” asked Hermione.
A light blush crept up Harry’s neck as he mumbled, “Your dress in fourth year.”
“You got my favourite colour from a dress I wore ages ago? And you remembered?” said Hermione incredulously.
“Of course I did. That goes for both of your questions if you’re wondering,” replied Harry with a grin.
Hermione grinned back at him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“What about you then? What’s your favourite colour?” asked Hermione.
“I dunno, probably red?” he said.
“Not just because you’re a Gryffindor, right?” Hermione teased.
“Er, maybe?” said Harry.
She gave him a smirk and tangled her legs up with his for more warmth.
“Ok, I’ve got another question for you. Living in the countryside or in the city?” said Harry.
“That’s actually a tough one. I mean, I’d love to be in the city, at the heart of everything with all I need around me. But then again, the countryside just sounds so much more… nicer. Clear skies, peace and quiet, a simple life. Who wouldn’t want that?” Hermione trailed off.
“That sounds perfect,” smiled Harry. “Imagine having a simple life, huh? Away from the crowds, away from the danger, away from everything…,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” sighed Hermione wistfully. “Even here in the Forest of Dean would be lovely. It’s wonderful here,” she added, wishing that she and Harry weren’t on the run right now if only to fully enjoy this place and the solitude nature had to offer here.
Harry nodded as he took Hermione’s hand between his and rubbed slow circles on the back of her hand.
“Can I ask my next question?” asked Harry.
“Alright,” said Hermione. “Any reason you’re asking these questions? Other than to keep us from falling asleep?” she added, amused.
“You’ll see,” said Harry with a twinkle in his eyes.
“So, what’s one place you’d love to travel to and explore?” he asked.
“Rome,” said Hermione without missing a beat.
Harry smiled knowingly.
“Don’t tell me you saw that coming too,” said Hermione with a laugh.
“Sure, if you don’t want me to,” Harry said playfully.
Hermione gave him a lighthearted nudge with her arm and motioned for the next question.
“Right, final question,” said Harry. “How many kids would you want to have?” he asked rather unabashedly.
“Kids? Th-that’s oddly specific,” said Hermione blushing a deep shade of red.
“Erm- you do want to have kids right? Someday?” said Harry, feeling flustered now.
“Oh yes, of course. I just- I’ve never given any thought to how many I want to have. But I don’t know, uh, definitely not just one. Maybe four?” said Hermione toying with the edge of the blanket. “Is four too much?” she asked, not quite looking at him.
“No! No, I mean, four is great! Perfect. I, uh, I’ll tell you why I asked those questions now, shall I?” said Harry with a nervous laugh.
“Yes, do tell Harry Potter. What made you ask those seemingly unrelated questions?” said Hermione, giving him a smirk.
Harry shifted underneath the blankets and propped himself up on his elbow so that he was looking down upon Hermione. Her wild curls were spilled across the pillow and she had bags under her eyes. Her lips were chapped from the cold and her body reflected how little they had eaten the past few months. Still, Harry thought she had never looked more beautiful.
He took a deep breath and said, “Recently, I can’t help but lose myself in dreams and… I guess you could call them fantasies? Yeah, fantasies of what my life could've been like if not for all of this, and hopes and dreams for the future. I reckon it’s a way to cope with all of this- just getting lost in your own head for a while. So, uh, I just wanted to know what your answers to those questions were because someday, if all of this is ever over and if we make it out alive, I’d propose to you with a sapphire blue ring. A-and if you say yes, we can buy a house of our own in the countryside or even build our own one right here. And then we’ll get married and go on a trip to Rome for our honeymoon. And have four kids, and grow old together. And just be happy together, no dark wizards, no saving the world, none of this. Just us and our simple life,” Harry finished, breathlessly.
They were both sitting up now, cross-legged with their hands tightly clasped together in between them.
“Oh, Harry-”
“I know, I know, it’s a bit too much and totally improbable and you don’t have to say anything, it’s fine if you-,” said Harry hastily, cutting Hermione off.
“No, Harry, listen,” said Hermione, squeezing his hands. “That- that sounds absolutely perfect , Harry,” she leaned over and placed a chaste kiss upon his lips.
“I’ve never really thought about what might come after this, you know, assuming we make it out,” said Hermione. “Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined such a perfect life for the both of us. I love you, Harry. And we’ll make it through this mess together- for each other and for the life you’ve dreamed up for us,” said Hermione, a tear rolling down her face.
Harry reached out and wiped the tear away with his thumb, and rested his hand against her cheek. Hermione closed her eyes at his touch, and allowed herself to indulge in the thought of a perfect life with Harry.
“I love you too, Hermione,” said Harry, pulling Hermione into a hug.
Hermione sniffed against Harry’s shoulder. “And just for the record Harry, of course I’ll say yes when you propose. It’ll always be yes. Always,’ she said gently.
Harry hugged her tighter in response and buried his head in her shoulder, breathing in her scent- the scent of home.
“We’ll make it through this,” Harry asserted. Perhaps the more they said it, the higher the possibility of it becoming true.
“We will, and we’ll live this dream, one day,” Hermione said.
This dream was treacherous, as was their hope. But believing in each other and holding onto hope was better than having nothing to hold on to at all.