She was crying again. There was no mistaking it, no matter how much she tried to cover it up, Harry knew. She had been like this since Ron left, the impact of his decision more than she could take. Harry paced around the tent, not knowing what to do. How did he let it get this bad? Hadn't he tried to do everything right? Didn't they know that he had shared everything with them, that he was doing everything he could?

He threw himself into a chair and put his head in his hands. Everything he was doing was to save the people he loved, every move he made was for them, he never even thought of himself anymore – it was all for them. He could feel the tears starting in his eyes, and forced himself to breathe. It wasn't right; Hermione needed him now more than ever. He needed to be stronger for her.

He set the kettle on the makeshift stove and began boiling some water. He knew he could just use his wand, but something about doing it the manual way made it seem more like they were camping and less like they were running for their lives from a crazed dark wizard.

Hermione's sniffle broke him out of this thoughts and he chanced a glance her way. Red nosed and pink cheeked, she looked as if she had been through the ringer. There was no doubting that she had been crying, but there was more. She looked… defeated. Her spirits completely broken and there was nothing he could do for her. His chest began to tighten at seeing his best friend like this. There was nothing he wanted more than to comfort her, to console her and let her know that there was something – no – someone she could always count on.

"Why can't you?" a quiet voice in his head whispered.

"She's alone now, why can't you be there for her?" Another joined in.

"She needs someone – you. Harry, she needs you." The last one sounded so familiar, he could have sworn it was Ron.

Harry took the kettle off, tea completely forgotten about, and walked over to her bed. She stirred lightly and looked up at him, her glassy eyes meeting his.

"Harry, is everything ok?" Her voice shook slightly and she pushed back a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Hermione- you know it's not. But don't worry about me," his hand caught hers as she started to fidget. "Hermione, please, what can I do to help you?" He squeezed her hand softly, and looked into her eyes.

"Me? We shouldn't be worrying about me. We've got to find out how to destroy this Horcrux and we've no clue about the other ones and there's making sure we're not being followed and we're almost out of food and-"

Harry's hand lightly covered her mouth, muffling the rest of her speech. She was so confused. He had wanted to know what was wrong, and logically those are what they should be worrying about. There was no point in telling him the she blamed herself for Ron's leaving, that she should have been able to come up with a logical and reasonable reason for him to stay. That, yes, she did pick Harry over Ron, and she would choose him again and again; that she ever regretted saying that what Ron had seen was "nothing" between her and Harry.

The tears started up again and she forced herself to look away. Did Harry know? How could he? All she'd done was immerse herself in hunt for the Horcuxes and cry. Harry had no idea that her tears weren't for Ron, but for her failure to keep them together. To keep them a trio, that was her job – she was supposed to be the peacekeeper and she couldn't do that.

"Hermione, all you've done is cry. I just…" His voice grew quiet and a look of pain came across his face. "I just want to know how to make you smile again."

Her breath caught in her throat and she gently removed Harry's hand from her mouth. She sat up slightly, looking at him. He cupped her face, searching her eyes; she held her breath and waited. Harry gave her a small half smile and pulled her out of bed. His hands trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fire where they had touched. His hands moved to the back of her neck and found the clasp of the locket. Slowly, he took it off.

"There's no need for you to wear this all the time Hermione." He set the necklace down on the table. "It's my burden to bear."

"Harry…"she started, but one look in his eyes said there'd be no winning this argument. She glanced at the forgotten kettle and using her wand, warmed the water once more. "Would you like some tea?"

His laugh rang through the tent, and the look on Hermione's face was astounding. She couldn't remember the last time she heard laugh, and he couldn't remember the last time he did.

"What's so funny?" She asked with the hint of a smile on her lips. "Not that I don't enjoy hearing you laugh and all…"

"Oh, I had planned on making you tea, but as usual – you beat me to it." A smile ghosted over Hermione's face at the thoughtfulness of his action. She busied herself with the kettle and cups as he turned the radio on again. Quickly changing the static into an actual station, he turned the volume down, lending them background music.

"Harry…" Hermione took a breath before continuing. "Harry, you know. I didn't mean what I said to Ron."

Harry froze in his place, recalling the fight that had started over Ron's accusation. He swallowed and looked at Hermione, who was paying too much attention to their tea. He remembered how Ron came at them, throwing wild accusations and remarks at Hermione, spouting off something about "seeing them together" and "knowing what was going on with them". There was only one thing Harry could think of, that would set him off completely.

Hermione cried out in happiness as she made the connection between the Sword of Gryffindor, the Basilisk venom and Tom Riddle's Diary. Excitedly she shared this with Harry. The light from the table lantern gave her skin a soft glow and a slight twinkle in her eye. It was almost as if they were back in the library at Hogwarts discovering who Nicolas Flamel really was. Her enthusiasm was so contagious that Harry found himself smiling along with her, her grin growing larger as they began talking about what this meant for the other Horcruxes.

"You're brilliant Hermione!" Harry murmured into her ear as he enveloped her into a tight hug. "Bloody brilliant."

Hermione pulled back slightly and looked up at him. She closed her eyes and slowly began tilting her head up towards his. Harry gulped slightly and bent his head down, their lips were barely touching as the lights went out in the tent.

Confused, the two separated and looked towards the opening of the tent. Ron stood holding the Deluminator as he restored the light in the tent.

"Yeah – I'm still here." He growled as he turned around and exited the tent.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice broke through and he shook his head. "Did you hear me? Oh never mind…" She placed a cup of tea in front of him, her eyes uncertain as she looked at her friend. A small smile appeared on her face as she remembered how close they'd be to actually kissing, after all these years. But had that been because of the excitement of progress in their hunt or was it because he had actually felt something for her?

The radio suddenly became louder as Harry stood up; he knew that he needed to do something big, something to make her smile come back and for good. Letting go of all his fears and ignoring all pretense, he held his hand out for Hermione.

Confused she looked up into Harry's eyes. A steadfast determination was present and her curiosity got the best of her as she slid her hand into his. A soft song played in the background, the soundtrack for their dance as Harry began a slow waltz.

Hermione let a small laugh slip her lips as he stepped on her foot lightly. She continued following him, their bodies moving in time with the quiet melody. She cried out as Harry spun her, the momentum of the spin caused her body to lightly slam into his, their chests pressed together as the Harry's grip on her waist tightened slightly.

He dipped his head down and whispered in her ear, "I heard you earlier Hermione but I was so caught up in the memory of that night – it rendered me speechless." His breath tickled her neck as she slowed her movements, their bodies pressed against each other, swaying side to side. His voice was barely a whisper, soft enough to send chills down her spine, as he asked "did you really not mean it?"

Unable to not touch him, Hermione ran her fingertips down the back of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair as she thought about her answer. Her fingers traced his neck, and she rested them on his chest, feeling the muscle that lay under the soft cotton. Her face flushed as she felt Harry's hand graze the skin under her shirt, the tension in the air was thick around them as she took a step back.

Harry couldn't wait for her answer, the urge was too powerful as he leaned down and finally felt the smooth skin of her lips on his. Raw emotion poured through his body as he tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her closer to him, needing to feel every inch of her body against him. Hermione reacted instantly, finally realizing that this is what she had wanted all along.

She jumped slightly as Harry lifted her up, their lips parting for mere seconds as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Harry…" her voice was a breathy whisper, raw with emotion and yearning. "Harry – I didn't mean it." He chuckled softly as he captured her lips again, walking slowly he carried her over to the bunk. He searched her eyes as she nodded slightly. He placed a light kiss on her nose as he grabbed the wand lying on the table. Smiling at Hermione, he aimed the wand and whispered, "Nox."