Chapter Text
She left the room, slamming the door behind her. There was a funny spluttering noise from behind them. Pigwidgeon was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat.
“Why is everything I own rubbish?” said Ron furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon’s beak.
Harry didn’t say anything. Instead, he suddenly became very interested in placing his pajamas in the deepest corner of his trunk. He always felt awkward and uncomfortable whenever the conversation turned to the Weasleys’ wealth.
It was the last night at the burrow before they’d board the Hogwarts Express tomorrow morning. As a result, the whole house seemed to have gone to sleep sooner than expected — even Fred and George were already in bed. Harry wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't been sharing a room with them and seen it himself.
After turning off all but one candle, Harry went to change — only to remember his pajamas were buried deep in his trunk, now packed and ready. With almost no light, finding them would be a miracle. And he'd surely wake the twins — or Ron, who was already snoring. So instead, he simply went to bed. He tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, his glasses still on.
It wasn’t just because of Ron’s snoring. The thought of what had happened at the World Cup still haunted his thoughts. The scenes of the death eaters, the mysterious sound that conjured the dark mark, and the dark mark itself hovering in the sky, all were playing so vividly in his head as if he was watching a horror movie.
And then he remembered the vision he had back at Privet Drive. Voldemort and Wormtail planning to get to him? Not just to get to him, no. To kill him. And he'd been hiding that part. Not just from his friends, but from Sirius as well.
There was Professor Trelawney’s prediction as well. It did not matter that he, like Hermione, believed that she was a mere charlatan. However, this was different. Even Dumbledore himself believed it was a true prophecy.
Harry tried hard to make himself believe that the mere short time between these events was just a coincidence. But deep down he was worried — even if he had done his best not to express it in front of others.
He rolled over in his bed to face the window and gazed at the few stars that were lucky enough to shine brightly among the countless dark clouds. There was a cold biting wind that touched his face from time to time. Seeing Pigwidgeon, asleep in his cage next to the window, changed the direction of his thoughts to Hedwig. She was gone for far too long now and this made him worried with each passing day.
As his disappointment and frustration started to grow inside him, he took off his glasses and shut his eyes with a rather great deal of pressure and force, assuming that this could make him fall asleep. Seconds became minutes.
By the time he came to realize that this was of no result, it was almost an hour or so when he finally opened his eyes. He then reached for his glasses, put them on and rose from his bed. “Perhaps a little bit of hot milk could help,” he thought, with a sigh out of doubt.
So, he opened the door and stepped out. Ron's room was at the highest point of the house, so looking down the stairs, Harry could tell everyone was asleep. There wasn't the slightest hint of activity.
As he went down with great care, trying not to wake anybody, he reached the kitchen and started looking for a jar of fresh milk. After a few minutes he found one and was just about to open it, when another biting wind touched the back of his neck. Turning around to find the source, he discovered that the kitchen door, which led to the garden outside, was slightly open.
Full of curiosity and surprise, he laid the jar down on the table and went toward the door and fully opened it. Peering around the garden, he found the shape of a person sitting on a bench next to the vegetable section — lit by a hovering blue flame up ahead. There was just one person who could make these beautifully flowing flames.
He started to walk slowly toward her until he was only a few steps away. He saw Hermione with a blanket over her shoulders, gazing at the dark and misty forest ahead. She didn’t seem to have noticed Harry at all. This made him hesitate to go any further. Still, his heart wanted the opposite. So, he made his steps heavier, hoping she'd notice him. But it didn’t seem to work.
So, he put his hands on her shoulders and whispered in her ear:
“Hermione?”
This made Hermione gasp and almost jump.
“Easy, easy. It’s me, Harry.” Harry whispered again, seeing her tension.
Hermione turned her head toward him and panted: “Oh Harry…”
“You frightened me to death…” she continued, after taking a deep breath.
Harry gave a shrug and said: “Well, I tried to walk louder but you didn’t seem to notice.”
“Really?” said Hermione in a surprised tone.
“You okay Hermione? You look a bit agitated.” Harry replied, anxious himself.
“Oh I’m fine Harry. Don’t worry.” she said as a faint smile crossed her lips.
Still uncertain, he nodded and then pointed to the bench and said:
“May I join you?”
Hermione looked into his eyes. “You know you don’t need to ask, Harry.” she replied softly.
“Thanks.” said Harry as he went to sit next to Hermione.
Once he had settled next to her, he turned to look at her. But she wasn’t looking back. Her gaze was set on the forest once again. Trying to give her the space, his gaze turned to the forest as well. But his mind still on her.
A few minutes passed until Hermione suddenly broke the silence:
“It’s bewildering, isn’t it?” she said in a low voice.
“What is?” Harry answered, looking confused.
“How can one person become all that matters…” she replied without looking at him.
“Okay?” he said, having no idea what to say.
Hermione didn’t say anything, which made Harry continue:
“I know you. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Hermione turned her face to look at him and replied:
“Well, you know, after tonight’s argument with Percy about Winky, I couldn’t sleep. So, I thought I’d come outside and get some fresh air.”
“You’re telling me you’re only here because of Winky?” Harry asked, giving her a suspicious look.
Hermione's expression shifted. Knowing what must have crossed her mind, Harry added quickly, defensively, his hands already up:
“I don’t mean I’m okay with how Mr. Crouch treated her. I’m just saying it’s a bit hard to believe that we’re here just because of her.”
“I know Harry. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bothered to free Dobby back in the second year.” she said to comfort him, chuckling at his reactions.
Harry laughed and turned his gaze back to the forest, knowing she hadn’t told the truth, not all of it, anyway.
After a few moments, Hermione said:
“But the truth is, you’re right. I’m not here just because of Winky.”
Harry turned to find her looking down and saying:
“It’s actually because of what happened at the World Cup. You know — the death eaters and the dark mark.”
She waited for a moment, then continued:
“And there is also Trelawney’s prophecy. Although I still believe that she's merely a charlatan, but… with what you saw and what Dumbledore said…”
Harry was taken aback by her words. He himself was sitting here because of the same things. Same thoughts. But it was nothing to what was coming next.
As he was thinking, Hermione’s head suddenly turned to his side. But her eyes weren’t meeting his.
"And if I'm being honest, well, the other reason is…" she murmured. Then her head rose, and those beautiful brown eyes looked into Harry's. "You, Harry…"
“What… what is it Hermione?” Harry stammered.
Hermione, as if she was bursting with unspoken words, finally let it all out with a sigh:
“Oh, quit the act, Harry!! Trelawney predicts, that exact night Pettigrew escapes, you have a vision, your scar burns, death eaters show up at the World Cup, then the dark mark, and, well…”
“And what?” Harry asked with concern.
“You won’t tell me that You-Know-Who is after you…” she said, her voice choked up with emotions.
This was beyond anything Harry had imagined. He was so shocked that he remained silent for a long time. His eyes weren’t meeting hers after that.
“Well, you know…” was all he managed to say at last.
“Well what Harry?” said Hermione in a pleading tone.
“I... I… I didn’t want to worry you guys…” He stammered.
Hermione took his hands in hers and then softly said:
“Look at me Harry.”
Harry raised his head with shame and embarrassment, until his eyes met Hermione’s again. And then, he was drowning in those beautiful brown eyes, eyes filled with emotion and concern.
She squeezed his hands and said:
“You know you can always tell me Harry. You know that I’ll always listen…”
“I… I know Hermione. Believe me…” stammered Harry.
“Then please tell me Harry. If you care about me then tell me…”
And then there was silence for a few seconds. As if she was picking her words.
“Especially when your well-being is at risk Harry…” she finally said.
She then paused for a moment before whispering:
“I can’t imagine a world without you in it…”
Harry was so ashamed at this moment that all he managed to say was:
“I’m sorry…”
Hermione gave him a smile and said: “Don’t be sorry Harry…”
She then looked at their hands, still holding each other’s, before saying:
“Oh my god. You’re freezing!”
Harry, unaware of how cold it was because of what had happened, said:
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
“Don’t be silly. This is big enough for the both of us.” she said, as she pointed at the blanket.
“Oh come on, don’t be silly.” She added, chuckling at the look on Harry’s face.
Harry laughed and nodded. Then he went a bit closer so that Hermione could put the blanket over his shoulders too.
“Thanks.” said Harry as he started to feel warmer.
“Don’t mention it.” said Hermione.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” asked Hermione after a few seconds.
“Well, the same reason as you to be frank. The World Cup, the dark mark and, well…“ Harry said, tightening the blanket over his shoulders.
“my dream.” He added as his voice dropped.
“Is that all?” asked Hermione suspiciously.
“What? Yeah, that was it. Although there was that letter of mine, which I wrote to Sirius. Can’t say I’m not worried.” said Harry.
“You did tell Sirius everything about the dream, didn’t you?” asked Hermione, although she did seem to know the answer already.
“Well, I did tell him almost the same way I told you guys.” muttered Harry in an innocent tone.
Hermione let out a sigh but didn’t say anything. This made Harry appreciate her not making him feel more ashamed.
“So, what’s the plan?” asked Harry, changing the subject.
“The plan?” replied Hermione, looking confused.
“I mean, should we get inside or stay here?” answered Harry.
“Oh, well I would like to stay here for a bit more. You?” said Hermione as her voice went softer.
“I’d like that,” said Harry, his voice low.
Signs of happiness and gratitude started to show on Hermione’s face by his answer. After a few moments she pointed at Harry’s left shoulder and asked in a very low and soft voice:
“May I?”
“You know you don’t need to ask Hermione…” answered Harry in the same soft voice.
Hermione gave him a smile. She then put her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as Harry put his hand around her body to make her feel more comfortable. To bring her closer.
A great wave of warmth flowed through Harry. Like none of the earlier anxieties happened. He felt safe.
“You know that I’m most fortunate.” whispered Harry as he started to stroke her gently.
“How so?” asked Hermione, her eyes still closed.
“Because I have you Hermione…” whispered Harry.
Her eyes opened and her head raised enough to look into Harry’s eyes.
“I could say the same…” she whispered back.
She then put her head down, just like before, and closed her eyes as Harry noticed a small drop of tear falling from her eye…