Disclaimer : All characters in the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling. This story is written for personal purposes. I gain no monetary value for borrowing her characters for a short while just to write this fic.

A/N - Written for The Rival Ships Challenge where the prompt was to write a Harry/Hermione romance. No idea if I succeeded.

- And the Fan Art Competition. This fic is based on this picture.

http : / / fc02 . deviantart . net / fs21 / f / 2007 / 277 / 5 / b / Harry_Potter_and_Hermione_by_SueWeasley . jpg

Thank you to my betas Indyanna and ListenAndBlieve.

While She Waits

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It was dark out by the time Hermione stepped out onto the makeshift balcony at Grimmauld place. The old wood creaked loudly in protest as she walked softly on the well travelled route to the bench she had set up for herself. It had taken her days of research and reading of countless text books for her to find the right charm that could increase the space of the house without sacrificing its structure to instability. And more days following that discovery, for her to practice and get the right wording and movement so that her experiment would prevail. But, it had been worth it.

After months of staying at Harry's house alone, with a disgruntled house elf for company, and no freedom to leave, she needed this. A place to call her own. A place that would help her take that one step out of the door without falling into danger. Not for the first time she wondered why the Black family couldn't have sprung for a large garden out back. What she wouldn't give to see garden gnomes getting kicked around by Ron every weekend.

Instead of a warm house full of laughter and mischief, she slept night after night in a cold, lonely bedroom. The silence was deafening. The emptiness pulled at her heart strings; her hope sometimes leaving her until a letter would materialize with the news she had been waiting for; had been craving for.

Feeling the wind pick up, she called for her blanket and tossed it over her shoulders, begging for warmth against the midnight chill. She missed them; her two boys. Ron, with his cheeky grin, his quick temper, his ability to fill a room with life; and...Harry. She felt the familiar longing within her as the un-shed tears she had been fighting for so long threatened to spill over and cause her to break with a violent sob. She sniffled instead, hoping that her throat would relax and let her breath again. She always did have a stronger physical reaction towards Harry more than anyone else she had ever known. At first, it had been sympathy for the life he had led, the losses he had suffered. That had grown to affection laced with worry for his well being and safety. But now, after all that had happened, she feared for his life. She had seen him silently grow into the leader that everyone demanded of him, and give up the childhood that he craved. Even with Ron and her doing everything in their power to lighten the pressure, it hadn't been enough. He hardly slept, he hardly ate, and he seemed to run himself in to the ground repeatedly, only to let them help reluctantly and start the cycle all over again. But that didn't stop him from being overprotective of her, nonetheless. Which was why he thought of keeping her locked up with an angry house elf for company. According to her best friend, Kreacher would keep her safe under orders, even if he did mutter furiously under his breath whenever she was in the same room as him.

She was exhausted with her own duties, which made her wonder how Harry stayed strong through it all. Secretly, she knew it was a facade. He was giving up hope. The once bright irises seemed duller and full of pain; even loathing at times. It had come to a point where she couldn't even look him in the eye for fear of breaking down in front of him and having him comfort her when it should be the other way around.

She was just contemplating going to bed, something she always put off for fear of Kreacher suddenly showing up with a tiny elven dagger, when she felt it; her skin prickled. Her heart bursting with hope, she stood up and rushed through the house, dropping her blanket onto the wooden balcony floor. She ran; her feet thudding loudly on the stairs, her heartbeat thumping to an unimaginable speed, her lungs bursting in need of air. But still she ran, the thought of Apparating not even occurring to her in her distracted state. As her foot hit the last stair, she saw them. Ron was the first to turn around, and he was the first to get tackled.

"Whoa there! What a grip." Even though his tone was light, his arms circled her waist to pull her flush against him, holding onto her like his life depended on it. "Blimey, I missed you." His voice was soft, his breath ghosting over her forehead in a light kiss.

Closing her eyes, she tucked her head under his chin, letting her body mould against his. "I missed you too," she choked out. The tears and smile across her face bringing out the conflicting emotions she felt towards them. Relief, happiness, anger, hope were all one mixed ball of emotion inside her. She vaguely thought that if she wasn't told the reason for their long absence without news, she might have to strangle them after hugging them to death.

"Hey Hermione," another voice said just behind Ron.

"Harry," she breathed out in relief as she untangled herself from Ron's grasp. The hug she gave him wasn't as bold or brash, but it was filled with as much love and relief. His arms were strong around her, tightening and loosening as if he couldn't decide whether to keep holding onto her or let her go. She made the decision for him, tightening her arms in a way that was reminiscent of Molly Weasley. He seemed to relax into her, one hand resting at the back of her head, his face tucked into the curve between her neck and shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he whispered against her neck.

The shiver that travelled up her spine worked as the perfect shock for her to shove him off her and hit the back of his head with one quick move. The resulting 'ow' was very satisfactory.

Harry rubbed the back of his head petulantly. "What was that for?"

"What was that for? Harry Potter! Do you have any idea how long I've waited for any scrap of news that you two dolts were okay?" From the corner of her eye, she saw Ron shift inconspicuously to the side in a barely hidden effort to avoid her anger. "And you," she continued facing him. "Harry, I understand. He's a glorified hero." She ignored Harry's sound of protest. "But you are supposed to let me know that the two of you are okay. I have half a mind to hex you to oblivion!"

"Half a mind is better than a full mind, right?" Ron question sheepishly.

Hermione fought the urge to smile. "Don't try being cute with me, Ronald."

"You're done for, Ron," Harry snickered from behind her, "she used your full name."

"I noticed," Ron mumbled, cringing. "I'll just..." He gestured towards the stairs and started for it when Hermione noticed his face scrunch up in pain.

Her former anger evaporated only to be replaced with concern. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" She rushed to his side, her hands helping him to stay up.

Ron shook his head in the negative while droplets of sweat trickled slowly from his forehead. "Nah. Battle scars-"

She huffed. "Ronald Weasley-"

"I sprained my ankle," he mumbled in embarrassment.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "You two followed Death Eaters, for months, and all you come back with is a sprained ankle?"

"It was way more life threatening than the way you put it," Ron mumbled. "Which reminds me, could you be a pet and heal it for me? I don't trust Harry's wand skills when it comes to healing charms." The resulting glare she sent him caused Ron to cringe. "On second thought.."

"I've got a better idea," Hermione said in mock cheerfulness. "Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up, and once you and Harry fill me in and I decide to forgive you and not kill you, then maybe I'll fix you right back up."

Ron looked over her shoulder towards Harry. "You think you'll be okay without me, mate?"

"I'll be fine, Ron," Harry said amidst a barely hidden chuckle.

Ron looked between the two of them, his gaze scrutinizing them. "I'll just go shower then, yeah?" With a nod, he headed towards the stairs and took painfully long steps as he dragged himself up.

Hermione tried to hide the amused look that fought to escape. Knowing Ron for so long gave her the edge to know when he was milking a moment to get more sympathy. And he was definitely milking this moment.

Once Ron's form disappeared, Hermione had no choice but to face her other best friend. The happiness she had felt at seeing him alive and well was fast being replaced with apprehension. When their gazes met, she knew that he felt the same.

They stood at opposite ends of the hallway in Grimmauld Place, both wondering how to continue as they always did whenever the third member of their group was present. Even though they stared at each other awkwardly, she couldn't help but notice Harry's appearance. He had lost weight, that's for sure. His cheekbones and jaw had become sharper angles, caused by the depression in his cheeks. He was paler; the dark circles around his eyes a heavy contrast against his white skin. But he looked well. Uninjured and alive; the very thing she hoped he would be.

Her gaze fell from his eyes and landed to the left of his feet. "Your bag. I should-"

She started for the beat up back pack when he put his hand up to stop her. "It's okay. I got it." Leaning down, he grabbed the well worn strap and hauled it over his shoulder.

Another moment of awkwardness passed before Harry spoke again. "Is there anything to eat?" He grinned, and Hermione smiled back, feeling the familiar dynamic of their friendship kicking in.

"Of course. Merlin, you must be starving." She rushed towards the kitchen, Harry following in her wake.

"Just a bit," Harry said jovially as he dumped the bag in the corner of the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

"You were out for months, and you only took enough supplies to last you for a few weeks," Hermione reprimanded as she set out opening drawers, pulling open cupboards and examining the contents in the fridge; all in the hopes of finding something edible. "I can only imagine the two of you trying to scour for food. And of course, you both don't know how to cook," she continued as she pulled out a frying pan. "How ever did you two survive?" Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke over him. "And what were you doing anyway?"

Forgetting that she was supposed to fix something to eat, she took the frying pan towards the sink and began scrubbing it furiously.

"You were supposed to follow Yaxley and see if he leads us to Voldemort." She scrubbed the invisible grime harder, her face tucked low and away from his view. "That couldn't have taken so long. But you were gone for months. Months." Suddenly tired, she did a very uncharacteristic thing; she dropped the pan with a clatter. "Months, Harry." Leaning heavily against the sink, she closed her eyes to fight the tears that threatened to spill over. They had left her alone, neglected; for months. She had no news. She didn't know if they were alive or dead. She spent her nights sitting at that balcony waiting for the familiar prickle of her skin to tell her that the only two people who were able to breach her wards, had arrived. It hadn't been easy. She had been so close to her breaking point.

"Hermione, I..."

His voice sounded uncomfortably closer. She wanted to tell him everything. How tired she was, how unhappy she was, how close she was to giving up.

"Not now, Harry. We'll talk once you get cleaned up and rest. You also need to eat something." She gripped the sink harder, waiting; hoping that he would listen to her. Their relationship had changed so much that he wasn't as predictable as before.

She heard him sigh behind her. "Okay. We'll talk later."

Hermione let out a relieved breath. He knew, just as she did, that they wouldn't talk about it. They hadn't spoken about anything significant unless Ron was with them. Their conversations revolved around bringing down the Dark Lord. But whenever something small like this happened between them, they buried it without addressing it, even though it was monumental enough to change their dying friendship.

"Thank you," she said softly, but loud enough for him to hear. In her mind's eye, she could picture him nodding disappointingly, hands in his pockets, the way he does.

"I just-" He sounded closer.

"Harry." Her voice cracked; the emotion she was trying to bury was becoming a burden. She couldn't talk about this; not when she was seeing them after so long, and her emotions were still raw from the moment she realized that her two best friends had left her without word.

She heard him swallow, a habit that occurs before he takes a leap of courage. "Hermione, I-"

"Don't." She was quivering. The anger, hurt and abandonment she had been feeling threatened to burst out of her, and make her say something that she would regret.

He stayed silent for a moment causing her to pray that he would leave the room and give her time to control her emotions. But he didn't. "Are we done?"

Her eyes snapped open at his vulnerable tone. "What?"

"Is this how it's going to be? You and me not talking?"

She turned around to face him, regretting it instantly. She never liked how his eyes always held hers, as if they could see right through to her soul. "We talk."

"We don't. Not since-" He stopped when she looked away. "Hermione, you have to give me something. We can't keep pretending we're friends."

His words felt like an ice pick to her heart. "We are friends. How can you think we're not?" she asked, her tone betraying her hurt.

"You don't talk to me anymore. You don't stay in the same room with me for more than five minutes. You don't even look at me anymore," he said in frustration.

"I do."

"Only when Ron is in the room with us." He advanced towards her, making her move that one inch closer to the sink in an effort to put more distance between them. "Look at me, Hermione." She stayed wilfully stubborn, her gaze concentrating on the base of his neck. "Look at me," he repeated softly, his tone commanding. She finally did, her eyes rising slowly to meet his. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

If this had been anyone else asking this question, she would have laughed. Of course anyone would feel uncomfortable when their personal space was being invaded so brazenly by such a stormy personality. But looking into such familiar green eyes while they were nearly a hairs breath away caused a familiar shiver to travel along her spine. "Yes," she whispered, "you make me uncomfortable."

She could tell from the way his eyes sparked, that he hadn't expected her to say that. "And you make me uncomfortable," he whispered back. They stared at each other silently, Hermione's very being begging for a release from this awkward situation. "We wanted to send word that we were fine, but it just wasn't safe."

"There's always a way," she said, grasping for anything that could prove her right.

He looked sincerely into her eyes. "Not without compromising our situation or worse..."

He broke off abruptly, but Hermione's interest was piqued. "Or worse...?"

"Or worse..." he whispered, his gaze begging her to understand, "someone finding out where you were." She was about to speak, when he beat her to it. "I want us to go back to the way we were. We used to be able to tell each other anything. We used to be friends."

She stifled the need to shove him away from her and run. "Why are we talking about this now? It's been nearly a year." Hermione knew she was avoiding the issue, but she couldn't help but wonder why.

Harry's demeanour instantly changed. "Are you saying you don't miss what we were?"

"Of course I miss it, Harry."

"Then fix it with me," he begged. "Ron knows that something's not right. He's bound to get curious and try to find out what happened."

"We can't tell him," she said quickly, panicked.

Harry watched her silently, his jaw set. "No. We can't tell him. It'll crush him." She turned away from him, finding the look he was giving her disconcerting. But Harry met her gaze again, forcefully. "You need to help me keep this from him. Running out of the room whenever I come in is not the way to keep him off the trail."

"I know that," she said sighing in defeat.

Looking down, Harry cautiously took her hand in his. She fought the impulse to pull her hand back. "Hermione Granger," he began with a grin, "will you do me the honour of becoming my friend again?"

Hermione felt her chest tighten as she suddenly recognized the sweet eleven year old boy with the glasses and messy hair. She could never say no to that Harry. "Yes, Harry Potter," she said amidst her own smile, "I accept."

His grin widened, his gaze holding hers in sincere happiness. "I better go. Ron must be done by now." With a final affectionate squeeze of her hand, he let go.

Hermione nodded as Harry turned around and left the kitchen, picking up the back pack as he did. Only after she lost sight of him, did she finally relax. Turning back to the sink, she picked up the pan, the brush and began scrubbing furiously; all the while trying to forget the feel of his hand on hers.

Dinner was more of a carnival affair. Hermione had prepared enough food to feed close to eight people, thinking that the two boys would probably be starving. Still, she wasn't prepared for the amount of food that went down their throats in a way that made her think that they were just not chewing.

"What?" Ron asked as he took a bite of chicken only to drown it out with pumpkin juice.

Hermione shook herself out of her slack jawed expression. "N...nothing."

"This is great, Hermione," Harry said quickly before taking another huge bite of his own piece of bread.

"Uh... thanks." She looked back down at her barely touched food. They had run out of the popular spices, so she had no idea how they were wolfing down the food that had no taste; at least in her opinion.

Thinking that they would probably choke if she didn't provide any distraction, she asked them, "So, what happened?"

Simultaneously, they stopped chewing and looked at each other. "We think we found him," Ron said quickly.

Hermione shot a glance at Harry who seemed to be fully distracted by a wall hanging. "Found who?"

"Voldemort," Harry whispered causing Ron to wince to the right of her.

An unnatural fear shot through her as her eyes fell on her best friend. "You're sure?"

Harry's gaze met hers intensely. "We're sure. Yaxley led us to him."

"Where is he?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look between them before his green eyes met hers again. "Up North. We think he's heading to Durmstrang."

Hermione knew that look. "You're going after him, aren't you?" She looked at them determinedly. "Well, you're not going without me." If they thought that she would sit around and house sit while they were out risking their lives...

"We thought you'd say that," Ron said, pride in his eyes. "We leave in two days."

"Okay then," she said unsure, her glance falling briefly on Harry, who looked away from her again. He did that a lot. She had an impassioned speech planned about equality within their friendship, and was a little put out that she wouldn't be able to make her case. At least she wouldn't be left alone for months on end because of her proficiency for spells. She had found countless charms that could help cloak their journey without having to stay in one place and concentrate hours on end. They wouldn't be as effective, but they were something.

"Well," Ron leaned back and rubbed his stomach affectionately. "I think I better check up on Mum. You know how she gets when I come back from a particularly dangerous mission and then don't risk my limbs just to see her." Standing up, he faced Harry. "Coming, mate? She probably won't let you leave the Burrow though."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe some other time, Ron. I've got some unpacking to do," he said as he picked up his plate and headed for the sink. "But say 'hi' to Molly for me."

Hermione met Ron's gaze. They seemed to be thinking the same thing; that sounded very out of character. "What about you, Hermione? Fancy getting out of here for a bit?"

She couldn't help but look at Harry's hunched form as he tended to the dishes in the sink. "Not today, maybe some other time." She smiled in reassurance, even though she could feel his disappointment. "I'm just really tired. Waiting on you two takes a lot out of a girl."

"Yeah, sure," Ron said with a strained smile. "I'll see you two in a bit then." He stayed a bit longer, probably waiting for either or both of them to change their mind. Then, with a tired sigh, he headed to the door to grab his jacket and leave.

Hermione could feel Harry's gaze boring into her back.

"I think he wanted to be alone with you."

Her first impulse was to fight that presumption, even though they both knew it to be true.

"He could, if he wanted to." She was baiting him. For what, she still wasn't sure. She wasn't sure what she expected him to do or say, but she didn't expect him to pass her silently and leave the kitchen.

She sat there for a while, alone, trying to collect her thoughts. She felt the need to go talk to him about what happened. She always had questions as to how and why it happened. But everything else took precedence over it. Draco Malfoy's suspicious behaviour. The break-in at Hogwarts. The Horcruxes. Dumbledore's death.

Deciding that she couldn't call herself a Gryffindor if she didn't talk to him, she took a deep breath and with shaky legs headed upstairs towards his bedroom. As she stood there for a moment, contemplating, her fist raised and ready to knock, the door opened.

Harry paused, and she could see a bit of confusion in his eyes. "Oh, hey."

"Hey," she tried to smile, her hands falling awkwardly by her side. "Can I come in?"

"Er... yeah." He moved aside, giving her enough of room to enter before he closed the door behind her.

Hermione knew this room well. While they had been gone, she found that she couldn't stay in her own room. She felt somehow detached from her two best friends. It took a week before she decided to take turns sleeping in both of their beds. Having their things around her made a feel a bit more secure in her loneliness.

Harry watched her as her eyes took in the new additions around the bedroom. There were books, ingredients for potions, tattered clothes. All that were miniaturized and packed in the back pack they had been carrying around. "I forgot how many things you took," she said thoughtfully as she turned to face him.

"Yeah," Harry said as he shifted from one foot to another, "we were a walking store." He stayed close to the door, as if he expected something unpleasant to happen.

Hermione bit her lip as she shifted herself. This was uncomfortable. How can you talk to your best friend about something like this? Especially the best friend it happened with?

"Why did you kiss me, Harry?" Even though her voice was strong, she kept her eyes trained at a spot over his shoulder.

He stared at her dumbly, surprised by her curtness. "I was hoping you would never ask me that."

She shrugged in an effort to seem as casual as possible in such a tense situation. "I wish I didn't have to, but..."

"You did kiss me back," Harry said as he met her gaze fiercely; and again it hit her how much he had changed. How he had become more sure of himself; less shy and fragile. He seemed somehow more than what she'd always known him to be; and it scared her.

"You surprised me. I didn't expect-"

"I know," he mumbled tiredly. He headed towards the bed and sat down; his shoulders slumped, and his demeanour defeated. "I've ruined us, haven't I?"

Hermione sat down beside him, acutely aware that the depression in the mattress brought her closer to him. "No. You haven't. What we have... It can't be ruined because of one kiss."

He chuckled half heartedly as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "And yet, this is the first time we're talking."

"Don't say that, Harry. We're-"

"What did you think? About the kiss I mean?" he asked softly as he faced away from her.

Hermione stopped breathing for just a second. Did he have to ask her that? "I..."

"I know I shouldn't ask you this, and I know that we're supposed to forget it happened. But..." he trailed off.

Hermione just had to know. "But?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

This was the perfect opportunity to close the door on that one moment so long ago at Hogwarts. It felt like yesterday; the memory of Harry's skin burning her as he took her face in his hands, his lips meeting hers urgently. She remembered the most ridiculous things; how the stairs creaked loudly as they changed, how stifling her Hogwarts robe was, how she felt her breath hitch because of that simple touch. And most importantly, how brilliantly his emerald eyes shone when he did finally pull away.

She was given this chance and she was supposed to take it. But she couldn't. Feeling the need to just touch him, any part of him, for reassurance, she took his larger hand in hers. "Tell me."

Harry's gaze fell on their entwined fingers in fascination. "I don't know if I can."

When his thumb began to stroke her skin gently, Hermione felt the breath knock out of her. It took all of her will power not to tear her hand away and jump away from him. She couldn't understand how that one movement could make her suddenly aware that his knee was touching hers, his shoulder brushed against hers or his hot breath that was against her cheek.

She looked up, feeling his presence closer than she was comfortable with and her eyes met green. He moved closer, his gaze holding onto hers desperately. She felt his warm breath against her lips just before his lids fell over his eyes and his nose nudged hers gently. His breathing was ragged against her skin, and it took another moment before Hermione realized that her own breathing mirrored his. He shifted to the side slightly, and she felt the light touch of his lips against the corner of hers. She let out an involuntary breath, her own eyes closing as she gave into this sensation of Harry. Just Harry.

She barely registered the change when his other hand tangled in her curls and his lips lightly pulled against hers. A shiver ran down her spine, causing her lips to part and meet his kiss gently. He kissed her fully then, his lips a demanding but gentle caress. She responded with equal fervour while their tongues met shyly and her own free hand tangled in his dark strands. The kiss was slow, but passionate. Their breaths mingled hotly against skin while his lips caressed hers almost reverently. He kissed her as a man would after getting something he had wanted for so long; drinking her in greedily as if she was the only thing that could fulfil his deeply burning thirst.

It was Harry who finally pulled away, his cheek resting against hers. "I can't believe we just did that," he said hoarsely.

"I know," Hermione whispered against his ear, her fingers still running through his hair at the nape of his neck. A shiver ran through him that she felt along the length of her body.

"We can't do this though."

"I know." She pulled away from him. His glasses were slightly crooked and her actions had made his hair even messier. Hermione let a smile play on her lips as she raised her free hand in an effort to tame his unruly strands. "Your hair..."

"I know." He grinned sadly before his own fingers circled her wrist and brought her hand to lie over his chest. His heart was beating incessantly, just like her own. "You're amazing, Hermione." After a slight moment of hesitation, he bent down and pecked her lips gently.

This wasn't right. He wasn't acting right. Her fingers curled against his chest, fisting the thick material of his sweater. "Why do you sound like you're saying goodbye?"

He smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm not."

She could see it. He wasn't telling her something. "Harry-"

"Spend the night with me."

Her eyes widened, and he grinned cheekily at her.

"Just do it," he said as he nudged his nose against her cheek affectionately.

Hermione nodded, at a loss for words. She found what she was doing and who she was doing it with completely surreal. But then Harry kissed her again, and she kissed him back finally feeling the happiness that she had been craving for so long.

Hermione awoke the next day to an empty room, and an empty bed. He had taken anything that could be used for a tracking spell. All that was left was a note written in scratchy hand writing she knew so well.

I'm sorry. I had to.

It took her days to realize that he couldn't be found. And it took Ron weeks to realize that he did this for them.

All Hermione could do was keep the protection charm she had placed on Harry strong, and keep Ron from leaving without knowing where he was going or how he was going to find their best friend.

All she could do was wait for his return; hoping, as she sat on that one bench on the rickety old balcony in Grimmauld place. All she could do was wait, until her skin prickled.

.