Happy Tears

Night had normally brought with it a calm—a sense of peace—to her no matter where they had been or what they had struggled with during the day. She was striving now to enjoy the nights like she used to. Now that the nights had been getting uncomfortably cold, one fewer person with whom to share the night watch duties had meant more duties for Harry and more for her, and each time she shivered in the cold, she resented Ron a little more for abandoning them.

Each night of watch duty since Ron left them, she'd sat alone after Harry turned in. Like she'd been doing for months, she admired her surroundings, trying to extract any shred of peace from them that she could; but it was a futile attempt since they'd been abandoned. And, like she'd been doing for months during her watch duties, she read, reminisced, and daydreamed; only now, those activities—previously tools to pass time that were now tools for distraction—were futile, too. Fighting her tears was futile.

She cried at night during her watch, and she cried when alone in the tent. She left the tent during the day to cry. She cried whenever she thought Harry wasn't listening. She didn't want to burden Harry with her emotive displays; he was going through so much without having to worry about her.

If abandoning her parents and being abandoned by Ron were an emotional upheaval, being abandoned by Harry would be devastation. Worse than death. That realization (which had occurred the night Ron left), and the fear that accompanied it, had began the deluge of tears. She feared losing Harry more than she felt the loss of Ron; she feared losing Harry more than she feared never getting her parents' memories restored. She feared Harry abandoning her as much as she feared him dying in the war. She feared losing Harry—but most of all, she feared that she'd always fear losing him. He had never been more than her best friend, and she feared he never would. She feared she would forever be his best friend. She feared watching him love another, marry another, make babies with another, grow old with another.

She hadn't been able to stop Ron from leaving; how could she prevent Harry from doing the same? She'd poured out everything she had within her—friendship, loyalty, time, devotion, sacrifice, love—for her boys, and it hadn't been enough.

Several weeks after Ron left, she sat outside for night watch, shivering outside despite a warming charm and her warm winter clothes and blankets from both her and Ron's beds. She startled at being suddenly enveloped; Harry had placed his own blanket—the last in the tent—around her front and then he sat behind her with his legs spread in a 'v', one on each side of her. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her into him. Harry's fingers spread apart, and even through the thick layers of blankets and clothes, she felt the warmth of each one.

She hummed at the contact—the warmth and the touch. Warm air pulsed past her left ear as Harry buried his face in her wild curls. She heard him inhale deeply and exhale slowly.

Did he just smell my hair? She hadn't washed it in weeks, so the possibility of it exuding an enticing scent was nil.

"Thank you for the blanket, Harry," she whispered, sniffling as she tried to stifle her tears.

"Let it out, Hermione. Cry if you want to. I'm here," he responded.

"You're here," she agreed, closing her eyes, determined to not ruin this blissful moment, this contact, with tears.

"He left us, and it hurts, I know," Harry said quietly, "but we have each other, Hermione."

She nodded. "I know. I'm glad. I guess it just got to me tonight. I'm sorry."

"You've been crying for weeks, Hermione."

What? He's known?

"He abandoned you. He hurt you. I won't. I swear."

She let out a sob and nodded. "Thank you, Harry. I just…I wouldn't be able to deal without you by my side. Ron leaving, it hurts, but…"

"But if we weren't together, it would hurt more?" Harry supplied.

She sobbed again, nodded again, and, turning her head to peek at him from the corner of her eye, said, "The worst."

Even in the pale moonlight, she could see Harry's beautiful, mesmerizing green eyes boring into hers. She stared back, and her breathing hitched at the emotion she saw in his eyes. Suddenly, she felt much warmer all over.

"Would it feel like your heart was breaking?" Harry asked.

Slowly, she nodded. "Breaking, disintegrating, ceasing to beat, caving in, decaying…" she admitted.

Harry didn't blink for a few beats of the organ in question. Then, he said, "I'll never break you heart, Hermione. Or crush it. Or bruise it. Or take it for granted. Or betray it."

She let out another sob—but with a smile—as her tears welled up once more.

"Are those happy tears?" Harry asked timidly.

She nodded emphatically. "Yes, happy tears, Harry. Very happy tears."

Harry grinned broadly, scooting himself around to face her, sitting on his knees. The organ in her chest—the one previously in question—beat erratically as Harry leaned in. Their lips met in a feather light touch, warming her to her core. Harry pulled away, conviction in his eyes and a smile on his face.

"I swear, Hermione. I'll make mistakes, but I'll never break your heart. You'll only cry those happy tears," he said as he swiped his thumbs across her cheeks to clear them of said tears.

She smiled, nodding and getting to her knees, letting the blankets fall off her back; she didn't need them anymore. Harry enveloped her once again, and in his embrace she had all the warmth she needed. Harry's face buried into her neck, and she nuzzled his cheek with her own.

"I, too, will err, but I'll never abandon you or break you heart, Harry. I swear."

Then they sealed their vows to each other with kisses that warmed their hearts and bodies…kisses that were like vows in and of themselves…kisses that promised forever.

Fin.

AN: Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! I do reply to reviews, too (unless you review as a guest because doesn't allow for responses to guests)!

This fic was inspired by the lyrics, "You'll only cry those happy tears, and though I'll make mistakes, I'll never break your heart," from the song "I Swear" by John Michael Montgomery as part of the Lyric Llama challenge hosted by Harmony & Co facebook group. I claim no ownership of the lyrics, the song title, or Harry Potter (i'm now crying 'sad tears' :-0 )