Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, et al. I write these stories purely for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: I've been attempting to write some new drabbles as a way of working through some writer's block. It's been nice to write some Harmony again!

In Between

At some point, Hermione realized that she had always been between them. The fulcrum, the balance point, the divider, the Other. She was the anchor of the Golden Trio, the one who kept Ron and Harry sane and safe, and in so many ways they did the same for her, too.

But she was always the one in between. The ley line. The unifying thread.

I.

When she ran toward Harry in the middle of Great Hall, heedless of the students staring and seeing only Harry and Ron's bright faces, she knew what joy was.

Harry unabashedly wrapper her up in a hug – he, who had been so wary of touch when she first knew him, had sat by her hospital bed and held her hand and was now hugging her until she could hardly breathe. She had known Harry was there even in her petrified state, and she relished the feeling of being warm and alive, able to move her limbs once more and return all of the affection Harry had shown her in those days and days of stillness.

And sweet, awkward Ron, who held out his hand rather than simply reaching for her as Harry had done. He was glad to see her too, she knew, but he felt less able to express it than Harry did. Was that the effect of growing up with mostly brothers? Hermione wasn't sure.

(Later, she would know that Ron had liked her even then and had no idea what to do about it.)

Still, she stood between them with a bright smile and basked in the feeling of completing their trio. She was the missing piece that had been put back into place, and there was nowhere else she would rather be.

II.

She wasn't an owl.

Boys. Honestly. They couldn't even communicate with each other when they were normal and friendly, much less when they were angry at each other, and so they tried to use her as some human substitute for Hedwig.

(Privately, she knew Ron was being an idiot. Harry would never put his name in the goblet willingly; he had been so happy at the thought of having a normal year, out of the spotlight and not in danger. Not to mention that he never would have made it past the protections on his own. Even she didn't know enough magic to do that, not yet.)

But she still tried to talk to both of them, mend things between them, keep her friendships with both of them maintained. Ron was jealous; of course he was. He'd always struggled with jealousy over Harry's fame and money, not really understanding the high cost Harry had paid for such flimsy and fickle things. Ron had accomplished older brothers and a younger sister who was doted upon because she was the only girl; of course he felt overlooked and unimportant. But he was important to many people, whether he saw it or not.

She obviously wasn't as important to either of them, even if she was their only means of achieving unity.

When Victor Krum asked her to the Yule Ball, she happily said yes.

She might be Ron and Harry's center, but they weren't allowed to pull her to pieces. She couldn't help them if she wasn't whole.

III.

Once, she wasn't between Harry and Ron, but between Harry and Ginny.

When they all gathered at the Burrow before term started in their sixth year, and Harry had arrived late, both she and Ginny had reached him in the Burrow's living room, almost at the same moment, arms outstretched, welcoming him home.

To their credit, neither of them flinched, though it was slightly awkward. They both laughed a little and then took turns hugging Harry, making sure that he knew he was welcome and wanted.

Perhaps that was why, after the war, Ginny never questioned it when Harry and Hermione claimed the night that they had spent in Godric's Hollow for themselves, just for the two of them every year. Sometimes they stayed in the Wizarding world, sometimes they went out into Muggle London, sometimes they went back to Godric's Hollow or the Forest of Dean. Harry was always home the next morning, and so Ginny never asked, and Hermione never offered – but every now and then, they would catch each other's eyes and a silent moment of understanding would pass between them.

He's all right. He's safe.

(Hermione suspected that Ginny, in her own fiercely intelligent and compassionate way, knew how much Hermione also needed those annual respites, even if Hermione didn't want to admit it to herself.)

IV.

The other important moment during sixth year actually came at the end, when Hermione, Ron, and Harry were up in the Astronomy tower. Hermione was at Harry's side at the railing, reassuring him and trying to make the stubborn idiot see that they weren't going to let him go off alone – and then she realized that Ron was sitting behind them, listening to her quietly but still very much there, letting her talk Harry down while providing solid support. There was an intuitive, painful pang in her chest as she realized it was happening again.

Dear God, is it always going to be like this?

To distract herself, she mentioned Ginny – pointed out to Harry that Ron didn't really mind if Harry fancied his sister, and that he might as well be open about it.

The painful feeling didn't go away for days.

V.

Then, of course, there was that terrible night in the tent. That hideous locket with its twisted, insinuating voices.

Ron's face, sullen and hateful and accusing.

I get it. You choose him.

Except, oh, she'd never really been given a choice, had she? The love she had for each of these two men was different, so very different, but both existed within her – and they had both taken what she had to give, given back to her, been her friends and allies and confidantes. They had bound themselves to her as surely as she had bound herself to them, and after seven years and innumerable near escapes, she couldn't untangle the ways they were all woven together.

Being the fulcrum of their trio was exhausting. Why couldn't they see that she was doing her best? She wouldn't break her promise to Harry, and leave him alone in this world of Snatchers with a murdering psychopath after him. But being without Ron was unthinkable, untenable, not least because she needed his humor and cheerfulness to keep her from despairing.

You choose him.

Hermione wept. She chose them both, and it had never been a choice.

VI.

Now, as Hermione stood between them and watched their children wave from the windows of the Hogwarts Express, she felt calmness settle over her like Harry's invisibility cloak. A soft smile pulled at her mouth as she realized they had finally, definitively won. Voldemort was gone, Harry was alive and safe, she and Ron had beautiful children and were aunt and uncle to Harry and Ginny's children. The young Weasleys and Potters were growing up, becoming self-sufficient, and somehow, all three of them still stood together. Whatever came next, Hermione knew that they would work their way through it, whether it involved fighting , money, politics, young broken hearts, or simply readjusting to a life where they spent less time as parents and more time as people. Perhaps new and different versions of themselves, but still the Golden Trio all the same.

And after all this time, she was still standing between them. Their center, as she had always been.