Lost (HarryxHermione)
Sequel to Empty which can be read here: http://vintage-words.livejournal.com/1338.html
Title: Lost
Pairing: Harmony
Rating: PG
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance
Summary: Harry realized it was the first time he had seen Hermione laugh in ages.
H-P-H-P-H-P
Harry realized this was the first time he had seen Hermione laugh in ages.
It had been a quiet evening, the only real movement coming from the flames Hermione had conjured to warm the tent. Harry had been lying on his belly, feeling the locket tick against his shirt while Hermione had been reading, re-reading, and scratching new notes when suddenly her head flew up, her braid falling behind her shoulders.
Alarmed, Harry stumbled onto the floor. "What?"
But she didn't answer him as she walked briskly to the opening of the tent and peeked out to only disappear immediately after.
Harry clamored after her, thinking of Death Eaters, Snatchers, bears but stopped when he saw Hermione standing with her arms half way extended before her as snow fell in gentle flakes around her. Slowly, she turned, her bare hands catching the soft swirl of white and Harry saw her smiling, actually smiling, with her mouth pulled up so far he thought her face may split in two. "It's snowing!"
Harry wasn't sure why this snow was different from all the other snow that had covered the ground in their many past locations, but her happiness was contagious; it was the first time she had actually laugh, let alone smiled.
She swung around to touch a branch that had gathered more white while Harry bent down and compacted some snow into a ball and hurled it at her. It burst in her hair, leaving white sprinkled through her braid. Her body jerked to a halt, her shoulders hunched to stop the ice from falling any farther. The look she slowly gave him over her shoulder was cold, the snow in her hair with the look on her face reminded Harry of a snow queen he had read of years ago and it stilled him for strange reasons.
Hermione stepped behind the giant tree she had been inspecting, out of Harry's sight and he immediately felt anxiety.
"Hermione?"
No answer.
"Hermione?"
And still no answer. He took some steps to the tree.
"Hermio-"
He was pelted in the face with snow, exploding on his glasses and into his open mouth. Sputtering, he heard Hermione's stifled giggles and he tried to wipe his glasses clean.
"Very funny."
"You started it."
And with those words the snow fight began, the snow balls degrading more and more into just tossed snow at each other. The trees provided good coverage until they decided to cheat and chase each other around them with the snow slipping and sliding under their feet. Harry had the sense of mind to scamper up one while Hermione was busy gathering more snow and by the time she had turned around he was gone. He decided at that point hiding from Dudley all those years in the trees had an advantage.
Without even bothering to compact it, he swiped the snow off the nearest branch and the entirety of it landed straight on top of Hermione's head. She shrieked as it landed on her before she threw her hand over her mouth to stuff any other noise back in. She looked up and though her face was telling Harry she was not impressed, her eyes were the most brightest they had been in three weeks.
"All right down there?" He called.
She continued to stare at him in mock annoyance; the grin on his face grew wider. Finally, her mouth twitched and she was smiling again. "You are a cheat," she laughed, waving her fingers for him to come down. "Yes, yes, all right, come down."
As soon as he was back on the ground, he slung his arm around her shoulder while she rubbed her arms furiously, her teeth chattering while she gave a quiet laugh.
It was a stark difference back in the tent; the warmth burning the ice and, in turn, an uncomfortable burn on their hands and faces. Immediately, Hermione went to her wand-made fire and, flicking said wand, made it grow twice it's size.
Harry went to his pack and pulled out the jar of milk that had been pilfered the day before and a tin cup, pouring the milk almost to the brim and with a tap of his wand, made it warm.
"Here," he held it out to her and she took it with a grateful smile, sipping it carefully. He folded his legs and settled in beside her, their knees touching and shoulders brushing.
"The snow's... white." He said lamely.
Hermione nodded, swallowed, and answered, "I've always loved it when it's snowed."
Harry had nothing to say to reply, so she continued, her eyes on the fire. "I mean, it's new, it covers the old, dead leaves and twigs and grass and makes it beautiful again. It leaves everything perfect and white, almost obliviated and forgotten." Her brown eyes turned to meet his green ones and her mouth turned up, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But it's only for a second and then everything is back to normal."
They were quiet after that, the heaviness in her words weighting the air around them by each passing second.
Harry knew none of this was going to be easy, but he didn't think it would be anything like this. The emptiness that had hollowed his chest over the weeks had hollowed Hermione's. And what was worse was he had been so caught up in the frustration of no leads to any answers that he hadn't realized Hermione was feeling the same way.
She set the empty tin down beside her and pulled her knees close, resting her chin on her knees and sighed. "But I suppose," she said quietly, "we can enjoy it while it lasts."
The fire was playing highlights across her face and for a second, both could pretend that they were sitting in front of an actual fire-place with an actual fire in their actual homes. But the moment ended when Hermione sighed again, wrapping herself more firmly in her arms.
As a reflex, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him. Unbalanced, she fell a little harder than necessary, but molded herself against him like it was the most natural thing in the world. They sat like that, his hand switching from rubbing her arm to her back in lazy motions until his arm had gone numb. She had fallen sleep somewhere in between and there just didn't seem to be a point in moving her.
She twitched, adjusting to fit just right against his side and without really considering it, he kissed the side of her head, breathing in for necessity, and inhaling the scent of her on accident.
She pulled away from him, very much awake and apparently had been for the entirety of their sit.
Harry wasn't sure if he had crossed a line. She wouldn't look at him, choosing instead to stare intently at his arm, her lashes downcast, hiding her feelings.
So he tried to just get out of the way, leave for the first watch even if it was her turn. But he couldn't, not when she finally looked at him, not when her eyes were so vulnerable. And that's what she was. A touch, a simple, human touch from Harry in the silence of the tent reminded her just how fragile everything she knew was and all she had right now was Harry.
Because Ron had left.
Because they couldn't go home.
Because they would die if they were found.
Because the world had gone mad.
And in her desperate need to feel normal, like she had at this exact time last year, she reached out with the very pull of her eyes for Harry to not leave her alone. To please, please, never leave her alone.
And Harry, who could feel it radiating off her, could feel exactly what he felt duplicated and coming off her in waves, and he knew that a human touch, not just a physical touch of skin, but a reminder that he was here and he wouldn't leave her and things would turn out all right, would be enough.
He found himself touching her face, his fingers and palm lining up perfectly along her cheekbones and jaw line to disappear under her ear. She leaned into his hand and breathed, her eyes closed as she tried to fight back her fear of everything shattering beneath them. It was probably a vain hope that as she exhaled into his palm, a small fear would leave her and sink into him.
He had more than enough to worry about, a little more wasn't going to kill him.
Her eyes opened a fraction, enough for light to shine in between her lashes as she rocked back and forth, and then fully to look him in the eye.
And his fingers tightened only a little, only a smidge, against her skin as he leaned forward. She stopped rocking, didn't move, didn't say anything, only stared as he closed the distance and kissed her.
It was a soft, gentle thing, light against her mouth, so tender in the way he held her. She only pressed back, a small noise coming from the back of her throat, and a little of the hurt went away. A little of the loneliness. But not all.
It would never be all.
Title: Lost
Pairing: Harmony
Rating: PG
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance
Summary: Harry realized it was the first time he had seen Hermione laugh in ages.
H-P-H-P-H-P
Harry realized this was the first time he had seen Hermione laugh in ages.
It had been a quiet evening, the only real movement coming from the flames Hermione had conjured to warm the tent. Harry had been lying on his belly, feeling the locket tick against his shirt while Hermione had been reading, re-reading, and scratching new notes when suddenly her head flew up, her braid falling behind her shoulders.
Alarmed, Harry stumbled onto the floor. "What?"
But she didn't answer him as she walked briskly to the opening of the tent and peeked out to only disappear immediately after.
Harry clamored after her, thinking of Death Eaters, Snatchers, bears but stopped when he saw Hermione standing with her arms half way extended before her as snow fell in gentle flakes around her. Slowly, she turned, her bare hands catching the soft swirl of white and Harry saw her smiling, actually smiling, with her mouth pulled up so far he thought her face may split in two. "It's snowing!"
Harry wasn't sure why this snow was different from all the other snow that had covered the ground in their many past locations, but her happiness was contagious; it was the first time she had actually laugh, let alone smiled.
She swung around to touch a branch that had gathered more white while Harry bent down and compacted some snow into a ball and hurled it at her. It burst in her hair, leaving white sprinkled through her braid. Her body jerked to a halt, her shoulders hunched to stop the ice from falling any farther. The look she slowly gave him over her shoulder was cold, the snow in her hair with the look on her face reminded Harry of a snow queen he had read of years ago and it stilled him for strange reasons.
Hermione stepped behind the giant tree she had been inspecting, out of Harry's sight and he immediately felt anxiety.
"Hermione?"
No answer.
"Hermione?"
And still no answer. He took some steps to the tree.
"Hermio-"
He was pelted in the face with snow, exploding on his glasses and into his open mouth. Sputtering, he heard Hermione's stifled giggles and he tried to wipe his glasses clean.
"Very funny."
"You started it."
And with those words the snow fight began, the snow balls degrading more and more into just tossed snow at each other. The trees provided good coverage until they decided to cheat and chase each other around them with the snow slipping and sliding under their feet. Harry had the sense of mind to scamper up one while Hermione was busy gathering more snow and by the time she had turned around he was gone. He decided at that point hiding from Dudley all those years in the trees had an advantage.
Without even bothering to compact it, he swiped the snow off the nearest branch and the entirety of it landed straight on top of Hermione's head. She shrieked as it landed on her before she threw her hand over her mouth to stuff any other noise back in. She looked up and though her face was telling Harry she was not impressed, her eyes were the most brightest they had been in three weeks.
"All right down there?" He called.
She continued to stare at him in mock annoyance; the grin on his face grew wider. Finally, her mouth twitched and she was smiling again. "You are a cheat," she laughed, waving her fingers for him to come down. "Yes, yes, all right, come down."
As soon as he was back on the ground, he slung his arm around her shoulder while she rubbed her arms furiously, her teeth chattering while she gave a quiet laugh.
It was a stark difference back in the tent; the warmth burning the ice and, in turn, an uncomfortable burn on their hands and faces. Immediately, Hermione went to her wand-made fire and, flicking said wand, made it grow twice it's size.
Harry went to his pack and pulled out the jar of milk that had been pilfered the day before and a tin cup, pouring the milk almost to the brim and with a tap of his wand, made it warm.
"Here," he held it out to her and she took it with a grateful smile, sipping it carefully. He folded his legs and settled in beside her, their knees touching and shoulders brushing.
"The snow's... white." He said lamely.
Hermione nodded, swallowed, and answered, "I've always loved it when it's snowed."
Harry had nothing to say to reply, so she continued, her eyes on the fire. "I mean, it's new, it covers the old, dead leaves and twigs and grass and makes it beautiful again. It leaves everything perfect and white, almost obliviated and forgotten." Her brown eyes turned to meet his green ones and her mouth turned up, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But it's only for a second and then everything is back to normal."
They were quiet after that, the heaviness in her words weighting the air around them by each passing second.
Harry knew none of this was going to be easy, but he didn't think it would be anything like this. The emptiness that had hollowed his chest over the weeks had hollowed Hermione's. And what was worse was he had been so caught up in the frustration of no leads to any answers that he hadn't realized Hermione was feeling the same way.
She set the empty tin down beside her and pulled her knees close, resting her chin on her knees and sighed. "But I suppose," she said quietly, "we can enjoy it while it lasts."
The fire was playing highlights across her face and for a second, both could pretend that they were sitting in front of an actual fire-place with an actual fire in their actual homes. But the moment ended when Hermione sighed again, wrapping herself more firmly in her arms.
As a reflex, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him. Unbalanced, she fell a little harder than necessary, but molded herself against him like it was the most natural thing in the world. They sat like that, his hand switching from rubbing her arm to her back in lazy motions until his arm had gone numb. She had fallen sleep somewhere in between and there just didn't seem to be a point in moving her.
She twitched, adjusting to fit just right against his side and without really considering it, he kissed the side of her head, breathing in for necessity, and inhaling the scent of her on accident.
She pulled away from him, very much awake and apparently had been for the entirety of their sit.
Harry wasn't sure if he had crossed a line. She wouldn't look at him, choosing instead to stare intently at his arm, her lashes downcast, hiding her feelings.
So he tried to just get out of the way, leave for the first watch even if it was her turn. But he couldn't, not when she finally looked at him, not when her eyes were so vulnerable. And that's what she was. A touch, a simple, human touch from Harry in the silence of the tent reminded her just how fragile everything she knew was and all she had right now was Harry.
Because Ron had left.
Because they couldn't go home.
Because they would die if they were found.
Because the world had gone mad.
And in her desperate need to feel normal, like she had at this exact time last year, she reached out with the very pull of her eyes for Harry to not leave her alone. To please, please, never leave her alone.
And Harry, who could feel it radiating off her, could feel exactly what he felt duplicated and coming off her in waves, and he knew that a human touch, not just a physical touch of skin, but a reminder that he was here and he wouldn't leave her and things would turn out all right, would be enough.
He found himself touching her face, his fingers and palm lining up perfectly along her cheekbones and jaw line to disappear under her ear. She leaned into his hand and breathed, her eyes closed as she tried to fight back her fear of everything shattering beneath them. It was probably a vain hope that as she exhaled into his palm, a small fear would leave her and sink into him.
He had more than enough to worry about, a little more wasn't going to kill him.
Her eyes opened a fraction, enough for light to shine in between her lashes as she rocked back and forth, and then fully to look him in the eye.
And his fingers tightened only a little, only a smidge, against her skin as he leaned forward. She stopped rocking, didn't move, didn't say anything, only stared as he closed the distance and kissed her.
It was a soft, gentle thing, light against her mouth, so tender in the way he held her. She only pressed back, a small noise coming from the back of her throat, and a little of the hurt went away. A little of the loneliness. But not all.
It would never be all.