Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: So… I'm feeling quite angsty and stressed right now. I, basically, had a dream that my mum died, and I went to my best friend for comfort. He's amazing, and I love him to bits, he looks after me… but not in a romantic way, clearly, he's like a brother that frequently flirts with me outrageously and molests me in public places, which is beside the point. I love him a whole freaking lot, but not like that ;] hence me storing this story in my head for tomorrow morning so I can tell him I wrote a one-shot about how we got off in a roundabout way so we can take the piss out of it.

Song: White Blank Page by Mudford and Sons.

Quote: 'Can you lie next to her and give her your heart, your heart as well as your body and can you lie next to her… and confess your love, your love, as well as your folly…' (the song above =])

The Ride

Standing motionless in the kitchen she watched as the rain thundered down on the windowpane. After a while her eyes slid out of focus and she managed to shake herself out of it, turning to look to something, anything, other than the mind numbing repetitiveness of each drop by drop of rain falling against the sheet of glass.

Her eyes landed on the picture of her mum, framed beautifully in a crudely made pasta meshed frame she herself had made her so long ago. Her heart twinged as she fought to keep her emotions in check. Dad was sitting across the room, eyes downcast, a glass of whatever kind of liquor he had managed to get his hands on, the other holding a piece of paper. He was pale, barely holding it together, hands visibly shaking.

The silence in the room was deafening, and yet she had nothing to say to fill it. She feared that if she opened her mouth a whole host of things would come pouring out, in amongst the tears she held back so forcefully.

No longer being able to stand it, she walked into the living area, standing without making a sound before her father for a good few minutes before finally plucking up the courage to say "I love you, dad." Weakly, before walking out of the door.

He didn't so much as flinch, simply not having the time to collect himself and reply. He needed time alone. She needed out. Both thoughts complimented each other perfectly.

She couldn't drive. She didn't have anywhere within walking distance to go. She couldn't use magic. Not now. And so her eyes landed on the garage. It was unlocked, the door wide-open and the light on from where dad had left it in a hurry to see why the muggle police had arrived so suddenly at their front door. Something had happened; it couldn't be anything serious, surely. A follow up to the investigation over the break-in in the house opposite.

But it wasn't, and it hadn't been, and he hadn't had the energy, or memory to go back and finish off.

Walking through the pouring rain to the door she walked in and closed the door behind her, standing to look at the thing her mother had opposed so greatly. Her dads 17th birthday present. A motorcycle that she had never wanted, nor expressed a want to have. Something, which she had been too afraid to go near, even though her dad wanted her to so sorely.

Her mum had been furious. She wanted her to wait until she was older, until she was more 'responsible'. As if she wasn't already enough. So she'd taken the tests at her dads wishes 'just in case' and that was the end of it. She saw no need. She was a witch, she could apparate.

'Just in case', seemed like such an occasion as now.

For the first time in over a year, she picked up her helmet; gathering dust on top of one of her dads' tool boxes, unhooked the keys from behind the door, and pulled her jacket off the hanger.

She needed to be with her best friend. And he was currently all the way in London, she didn't know the way, and wasn't even sure she could remember how to drive it properly, and yet she was opening the garage door and pulling it out onto the road.

It felt wrong, going against her mother's wishes. Especially now. Especially after everything that had happened in the past. But it felt so damned right riding along the motorway for the first time, adrenaline pumping through her veins with the sheer tenacity of what she was doing, and the terror that she might crash, that she was doing something, for once, against her mother's wishes.

For a long moment, she forgot about her mother, the police, and her dad sitting broken on the living room sofa. She forgot about where she was going, and why she had to go there in the first place. She even neglected to remember that it was, in fact 2 in the morning, and her friend was likely to be asleep, in bed, unsuspecting.

That was until the road, so wet from the rain, seemed to slip right out from underneath her as she went around a long bend. The back wheel of the motorbike skidded across the sodden road and she cried out in annoyance, and pain at the entire situation, pulling over into a nearby layby and throwing her helmet to the ground.

Dropping onto the steel barrier, she dug her feet into the gravel repetitively, throwing the stones up and around her trainers and screamed in anguish as she remembered what the day had held. Her hands gripped her hair, and tears sung her cheeks, red hot in contrast to the cold air around her. The rain continued to throw itself down from the heavens, and the passing cars flashed past in the darkness, making spots appear in front of her eyes.

She squeezed them shut and let herself go. Her dad couldn't see her now; she was alone, in the dark and the rain, by the roadside screaming at something that had now ceased to exist just because she needed to.

She needed to, and she continued to until her throat became hoarse and began to burn, and beyond that until it physically hurt, and her eyes were swollen.

She was shaking, and still crying, when she mounted the bike once again. In no fit state to drive, but she needed to. By the time she got to London people were beginning a very early migration to work, giving her funny looks as she pulled up outside a house that wasn't there, looking like she'd been dragged through hell.

The house, of course, materialised before her as she neared. She hammered on the door without a second thought. It was locked, and she hadn't brought her key. Sirius opened it, looking tired and confused. Then he saw the state she was in and allowed himself to become ever so slightly more alert.

"Hermione? It's half past four… in the morning. What are you doing here?"

She couldn't say anything, so she didn't. He looked over her shoulder to the motorbike sitting in his driveway and nodded as if it all suddenly made sense. "A girl previously terrified of motorbikes turns up on my doorstep looking like hell, refusing to speak, having clearly driven one to the scene. What to do?"

She didn't take the bait, so he gave up and stood back. "Harry's upstairs, awake, no doubt. I'm going back to bed."

She handed him her helmet and ran past him up the stairs to her best friends' bedroom. He was indeed awake, waiting, no doubt, to see who had been thumping on his front door at such an ungodly hour.

"Hermione? What's happened?" he yawned.

Just the sound of his voice, the fact that he was asking if she was okay set her off again, opening the floodgates to more tears. He stood to close the door behind her, pulling her into a hug.

"Hey… come on, you're making me nervous, what've you done?" he half joked. She couldn't speak, that fear of too many words coming out at once, things she would rather not say, coming back.

Instead of pushing her to speak, he took off her jacket for her and found something she could wear, handing them to her and leading her over to the bathroom. "I'm gonna be right over here. Come talk to me when you're ready… or… not… I don't mind." He clearly did, worried as he looked.

Getting changed out of her wet clothes, she looked at her ashen face in the mirror. She did look kind of awful. Deciding she did not, in fact care how she looked at that particular point in time, she dried her hair with a nearby towel and made her way back to Harry's room.

Immediately made to sit on the end of his bed, she was pulled into another hug.

"Whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes."

Her tears now completely exhausted, she shook her head simply. "Not this time."

"Hermione…"

She wriggled out of his arms and lay back against his pillows, gathering her thoughts as he followed her, waiting.

"I lost my mum today, Harry." She said softly, voice shaking. It was the first time she'd said it out loud, and she hadn't wanted to admit it just yet, not even to herself.

He didn't say anything in response, not having the words, pulling her into another hug. He knew nothing he could say would make it any 'better'.

"How did you get here?" He asked finally, not sure what to say, but to scared of the silence.

"I drove… that motorbike my dad got me last year."

"You're dad…" He trailed off slowly, not sure how the sentence was going to end.

"He needs some time to sort himself out. I don't think he wants me to see him breakdown."

"And what about you?"

"I've got you." She said simply, rolling over to rest a hand on his chest, playing with the material of his shirt.

Perhaps what they said was true, life really was too short. People walked in and out of it so freely all the time, it really makes you wonder if you ever had any impact on their lives. If you really knew them as well as you thought you did. What you'd missed. What they were like before you came into their lives and what they would have been like if you had never been in it. Would they have been unable to survive without you, or did knowing you fuck them up so badly it led to them 'walking out'.

"You have." He agreed. "And I'm not leaving any time soon…"

She shook her head, leaning up on her elbow, a few sparse tears re-emerging. Life was too short to worry about the consequences of what you're doing in the now. So she kissed him, as briefly as she did. His hand came up to gently grip her shoulder as she steadied herself with her other hand on his chest. "Please don't leave me." She pleaded, a tear falling down onto his cheek as she hovered over him.

"I promise you, I won't." was all he said, and she closed her eyes in relief, resting her forehead against his.

She kissed him again, slowly, allowing him time to thread his fingers through her still damp hair. "It hurts, so much." She whispered, referring to the pain in her heart, the loss.

"I know." He wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "But I think I might be able to fix it."

A/N: 'The Ride' obviously referring to the one in life, if you didn't catch that ;]