Deathly Hallows Drabble
At midnight, as the snow fell silently onto their camp, Hermione lifted the flap of the tent to find Harry asleep and covered in a slight layer of white. She clucked her tongue, smiling nonetheless and gently touched his shoulder. With a grunt of surprise, he awoke and flew to his feet, drawing out the borrowed wand from his pocket.
"Oh Harry," Hermione chuckled. "If I were a Death Eater, would I gently nudge your shoulder?" His stature sagged, wand hand lowering. Running a hand through his hair, he knocked more snow off in the process.
"What time is it, anyway?"
"Twelve." Reaching out gingerly, she unwrapped his fingers from her wand. "I'm here now. I'll take over."
Hermione sat down on a log, clearing a pot with a flick of her wand. With a murmur, the tip lit with a soft glow.
Harry sighed, moving to the tent. Without his wand, there nothing more he could do other than to get as much sleep as he could. He stretched his aching shoulders and loosed more snow from them.
The flap from the tent blew slightly in the night's air.
"Harry?"
Hermione's voice wavered behind him. He turned, expecting to find her looking at him. She had not moved, though, still staring off into space lit by wandlight.
"Will he…will he come back?"
"I don't know, Hermione."
She nodded and he could hear a poor attempt to sniff back tears. In two quick strides Harry returned to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist. Hermione flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Tears mixed with melting snow in his sweater as it became completely soaked through.
"I just can't b-believe it," she sobbed. "After all we've been through, s-seven years together! That s-stupid git just gives up when it gets tough and leaves. How could he?"
"I don't know," Harry whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "But it'll be okay, Hermione. You and I will be fine."
"How, Harry? How can we make it by ourselves? Look at what happened at Godric's Hollow. Two of us just aren't enough."
"Shhhhh," rocking gently, Harry tried not to think about Voldemort or his Death Eaters or his Horcruxes. Hermione was his main concern now. She needed to be calmed. If this girl, perhaps the most stable, most sensible person he knew fell apart, Harry knew that he would not be far behind.
"It'll be okay. I don't know how, but I promise it will."
"You can't promise that," She sniffed and frowned into his chest.
Taking the wand from her, he gestured to the tent with a flick. The door flew open as a heavy quilt and tea set soared through the air to meet them in the snow. Wrapping the blanket around her body,
Harry filled the teapot with water and set it to boil.
"Here, have some and then go to bed."
"I just got out here, Harry. I can't let you take two shifts."
"Then I'll just have to stay out here, too," he said and offered her a cup. She took it, sipping slowly and gave a weak smile.
The two friends sat there, sting on a snow-covered log. They didn't speak, simply taking comfort in each other. Above them, snow fell just as silently covering the world in white.
"Oh Harry," Hermione chuckled. "If I were a Death Eater, would I gently nudge your shoulder?" His stature sagged, wand hand lowering. Running a hand through his hair, he knocked more snow off in the process.
"What time is it, anyway?"
"Twelve." Reaching out gingerly, she unwrapped his fingers from her wand. "I'm here now. I'll take over."
Hermione sat down on a log, clearing a pot with a flick of her wand. With a murmur, the tip lit with a soft glow.
Harry sighed, moving to the tent. Without his wand, there nothing more he could do other than to get as much sleep as he could. He stretched his aching shoulders and loosed more snow from them.
The flap from the tent blew slightly in the night's air.
"Harry?"
Hermione's voice wavered behind him. He turned, expecting to find her looking at him. She had not moved, though, still staring off into space lit by wandlight.
"Will he…will he come back?"
"I don't know, Hermione."
She nodded and he could hear a poor attempt to sniff back tears. In two quick strides Harry returned to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist. Hermione flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Tears mixed with melting snow in his sweater as it became completely soaked through.
"I just can't b-believe it," she sobbed. "After all we've been through, s-seven years together! That s-stupid git just gives up when it gets tough and leaves. How could he?"
"I don't know," Harry whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "But it'll be okay, Hermione. You and I will be fine."
"How, Harry? How can we make it by ourselves? Look at what happened at Godric's Hollow. Two of us just aren't enough."
"Shhhhh," rocking gently, Harry tried not to think about Voldemort or his Death Eaters or his Horcruxes. Hermione was his main concern now. She needed to be calmed. If this girl, perhaps the most stable, most sensible person he knew fell apart, Harry knew that he would not be far behind.
"It'll be okay. I don't know how, but I promise it will."
"You can't promise that," She sniffed and frowned into his chest.
Taking the wand from her, he gestured to the tent with a flick. The door flew open as a heavy quilt and tea set soared through the air to meet them in the snow. Wrapping the blanket around her body,
Harry filled the teapot with water and set it to boil.
"Here, have some and then go to bed."
"I just got out here, Harry. I can't let you take two shifts."
"Then I'll just have to stay out here, too," he said and offered her a cup. She took it, sipping slowly and gave a weak smile.
The two friends sat there, sting on a snow-covered log. They didn't speak, simply taking comfort in each other. Above them, snow fell just as silently covering the world in white.