Chapter Text
Hermione sat alone in their empty tent, lying on her bed hugging her knees to her chest. Harry sat outside on his shift keeping watch. Hermione listened to the sounds of outside, interrupted every once in a while with an exasperated sigh from Harry.
The reason behind the sighs was bound to be from Ron’s recent deserting of their task of finding horcruxes. They were both feeling his absence wear down on their already crumbling psychological stability. Over the last few weeks Hermione could often be found in her bed like today, her pillow stuck to her cheek with dried tears.
After her night shift of playing guard of the tent, she made them a rudimentary breakfast of tea and toast. After tea she tried to read more of her Tales of Beedle the Bard, which she hadn’t been able to open since Ron had left.
As she picked the book out of her bag, she found a page had been dog-eared to save a page. The sight of the careless damage to a book was enough to make her temper flare, but being reminded of Ron’s irritating habit despite her constant urging was enough to set her off on another sobbing session on her bed.
How could he have left them? Was he really so uncaring about their task at hand that he would abandon them to the dangerous work of finding and destroying pieces of Voldemort’s soul? Leaving them one less person, more vulnerable to the Snatchers and Death Eaters hunting them?
And when they had been getting so close to going beyond friendship. The accidentally-on-purpose brushing of his fingers on hers when grabbing parchment. Teaching her how to skip stones on the lake, Hermione leaning into his embrace, his lips brushing her earlobe, smiling when he’d tell her “Swish and flick. Just like first year, eh ‘Mione?”
Especially after that time at Grimmauld Place. Harry was brooding in the kitchen, watching the Marauder’s Map. Hermione and Ron sat at the piano. Ron watched Hermione’s slight and elegant fingers gracefully gliding across the keys, playing effortlessly, smiling with the corner of her mouth the way she did when she felt smug.
“You’ve just got a way with things, haven’t you?” he said quietly, grinning as she turned to look at him.
“My mum would spend hours with me with the piano, teaching me how to hold my hands just right,” she told him. Ron was surprised, that was the first time she’d spoken about her parents since they’d been away. It seemed to occur to Hermione as well, when she bit her bottom lip and her eyes welled up with tears.
“Hey,” Ron said, closing the small space between them to use one arm to wrap around her waist holding her against him. He used his other to reach over and wipe away her tears.
“I’ll have none of that. When this is all over, we’ll go find them. You’ll see them again,” he assured her, making her meet his gaze. She nodded, cracking a smile. She placed her hand over his own on her cheek. His warm protective embrace was enough to make her longing for her parents fade away again. His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips. She noticed a shift as he smiled a bit and started to lean forward.
She leaned in and their lips met, gently. Ron’s lips grazed hers gently and tenderly, and Hermione placed her hand on his cheek.
“Guys,” Harry walked into the room and they broke apart before he saw. But Ron kept his arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head as Harry joined them in the living room to discuss their next move.
How could he leave after that? Hermione wondered. Was he actually jealous, thinking something was going on between her and Harry?
The longer Hermione thought about Ron, the more anger began to outweigh the sadness she felt. She considered the dog-earing of her books despite requests and rants about not vandalizing her most valued possessions, and so easily abandoning her and their blooming relationship. She remembered fourth year where he shunned Harry out of jealousy and made her carry messages between the two of them. This was not the first time Ron had let his jealousy or insecurities get between him and his friends.
This thought gave her the strength to wipe away her tears and relax in bed. She pulled the quilt over her shoulder and let her swollen eyes fall closed and get some much needed sleep.
Hermione had been asleep for half an hour when Harry heard the sound of someone apparating.
“Fuck,” Harry swore under his breath, stood up and pulled his wand out of his back pocket. A figure stumbled and fell on their knees, less than 10 yards away from their tent. He could hear sobbing coming from the figure as he crouched on his hands and knees. Harry held his wand out in front of him and strained his eyes trying to make out who it could be.
The figure wore black robes and had platinum blond hair. Harry’s immediately felt his heart fall into his stomach as panic set in.
Malfoy.