As he began to awaken, he realized that he felt happier, safer, and warmer than had in years. He wanted desperately to sink back into that peace, but the sun peeking through the seams of the tent pulled him out. As he came closer to waking, he felt her bare hip under his hand. Memories of the night before came flooding back and contentment filled his chest.

Not realizing he was already awake, she tried to slip out of the bed without disturbing him. They were in enough trouble without her losing her head like this. What was she thinking? Well, she hadn't really. Last night, sitting on those cold, wooden steps; wearing that locket, all she could do was feel. She missed her parents and desperately worried about them. She was angry because she knew they were never going to be able to destroy the Horcrux they had and would have to continue dragging the damn thing around with them, and even worse, keep wearing it. She was panicked that they would never find the other Horcruxes and Voldemort would never be defeated. Ron's abandonment left her devastated. When he accused her of wanting Harry and not him, she felt the blood drain away from her face. Had he seen something? She thought she had done such a good of hiding it, all these years, pretending had become second nature.

Her first, awe-struck admiration for the famous Harry Potter had become something more during their second year. She had her first full-fledged crush. But so had many other girls at Hogwarts. She heard them, talking about him, whispering and giggling. They all seemed so much more confident than she; pretty girls who knew how to flirt, effortlessly making the boys chase them. She was the frizzy-haired, socially inept bookworm no one ever looked at her twice; least of all Harry. As the trio's friendship developed through the years, she realized that Ron was starting to see her as more than a friend, though. He had his flaws, everybody did, but he had more or less remained their constant ally. His family had practically adopted Harry and Hermione and Ron managed a few great moments here and there. He had never been able to replace Harry in her heart, though, try as she did to let him in.

Then, last night, Harry wanted to dance with her. He was trying to cheer them both up, she knew. To show them that they still had each other and there was still some laughter in the world, even here. It worked. For a few wonderful minutes she wasn't stuck in this cold tent, on a hopeless mission that was almost certainly going to end with their deaths. She was just a teenage girl, dancing with the boy she had had a crush on for years.

Then he pulled her close. She couldn't remember ever being this close to him for more than a quick, friendly hug. With his arms around her, she felt safe and protected. When the song ended, she hadn't wanted to let go. She looked into his eyes, certain she would never have another chance like this. Then the thing she knew would never happen, the thing she had dreamed of for years did happen. Harry Potter kissed her. Then…. she flushed with happiness thinking about it.

In the cold light of day, though, reality came flooding back. Harry loved Ginny, she knew. What had just happened was almost predictable, she thought. Two people feeling so miserable and going through what was probably the lowest point of their lives so far… Harry had needed comfort, nothing more, she assured herself. Maybe eventually she could convince herself she felt the same about last night.

And they still had so much work to do, so far to go before this war would be over. If anyone found out about this, the consequences would reverberate well past the two of them and put many more people in more danger. As much as she wanted it, this couldn't happen again. The mask had to go back on. As she tried to slip out of bed, he moved his hand from her hip to her waist, and pulled her back.

"Not yet," he whispered, his voice still husky from sleep. He nestled closer to her and placed soft kisses on the place where her shoulder met her neck.

"Harry," she began and sighed, slightly impatiently, gently trying to pull his arm from around her. He held her tighter.

"No, Hermione" he murmured in her ear. "We have the rest of our lives to regret this, let's not start yet." Regret? she thought. Is that what I'm supposed to feel? Her heart sank and her eyes filled with tears. Is that what he feels? She stayed, but she gave that impatient sigh again, she wanted to get out of here before she started really crying.

He could tell she was uncomfortable. He kissed the sweet spot on her neck once more and released her. She quickly gathered her clothes and scurried to the another room of the tent to dress. He rolled to his back, stared at the ceiling, and replayed the events that brought him here.

He loved her for years, but put those feelings aside when it became obvious that Ron was her choice. He hoped Ron would make her happy, but somehow he always managed to do and say the wrong things, oblivious to how much he hurt her. As their lives became more dangerous, he was certain Ron would grow up, think about someone else for a change, and protect her. When they fled from Voldemort and the Death Eaters and Snatchers, he actually seemed to be trying to do just that. Until tonight, Harry thought.

After Ron stormed off, Harry sat in the chilly tent, listening to meaningless music on the radio, trying to take his mind off their troubles. He watched Hermione sitting on the stairs beside the cot Ron had slept in, staring at the rumpled bed, looking as if she could wish him back into it. I wish I could see her smile again, he thought, even for one minute.

On a whim, he crossed the tent and stood in front of her. She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. She's so beautiful, he thought, even here. He offered his hand and she took it. He gently pulled her to her feet, removed Slytherin's pendent from her neck and tossed it on the bed. He took her in his arms and they began dancing. He spun her around in silly, clumsy steps and his wish was granted. She even laughed for a few blissful seconds. As the song ended, he pulled her close. She flooded his senses; her sweet scent, her warm hand in his, and her soft body pressed against him. It drove him to the edge of self-control. The music faded and she was looking into his eyes. He couldn't stop. He kissed her. Just once, he promised himself. He didn't expect her reaction. She locked her hands behind his neck , clung to him, and kissed him back fiercely. He knew she was lonely, sad, and scared. He knew that he was taking advantage of her when she was vulnerable, but the second he tasted her, he didn't care anymore what brought her to his arms, he just wanted her.

They resumed the Horcrux search the next day as if none of it happened, and sometimes Harry wondered if it had been a dream.

Often Hermione would stare into the campfire during her watch, replaying that night and fantasizing about just leaving it all and running away with Harry, as far from here as they could get.

Eventually, Ron managed a hero's return, saving Harry's life, destroying the locket Horcrux, and spinning tales about blue lights and Hermione's voice. Hermione was furious with him, but the story he told about hearing her voice in his heart made her feel even more guilt about what had happened the night he left. She knew Ron wouldn't take any fault for what had happened, so she blamed that night on being under the influence of the Horcrux and forgave him.

Harry never quite believed that story. He had taken his share of turns wearing the locket of Salazar Slytherin. While it did intensify the feelings of anger and despair he felt, it didn't create them. Ron said what he truly felt that night and Harry couldn't forgive him. They never discussed the night he deserted them and he never apologized to either of them.

After the war was over, she and Ron began dating seriously. Harry was accepted for Auror training and eventually moved in with Ginny, who became a professional Quidditch player. Hermione began an internship in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Ron agreed to run the joke shop for George, who just couldn't return to the place that had been his and Fred's dream. Harry and Hermione kept their distance from each other. Harry hurt too much to see her and Ron together. Hermione was afraid one day Ron would see guilt or longing on her face every time she saw Harry. They allowed that distance to grow, and now they were, at the most, polite acquaintances.