Hermione spent the next few nights falling asleep with tears soaking her pillow. She knew that Harry could hear her, but something made her want him to feel something for her, something more than pity; maybe even more than friendship? Yet every time the idea crossed her mind, her eyes would begin to water and the thought would leave her mind.
Harry and Hermione continued to think of possible hiding spots for Gryffindor’s sword, but the ideas became far-fetched beyond all real possibility. When that long, circular conversation died out, they busied themselves talking to Phineas Nigellus, who took great pleasure in insulting them and trying to trick them into revealing their location.
Sometimes, though, Harry and Hermione sat in chilling silence, and she noticed, or maybe imagined, that Harry would sometimes look into her eyes for long periods of time, only to look away when she glanced back. She secretly hoped that he might be falling for her or starting to see her differently: their new situation made her feel reckless and rebellious.
Meanwhile, winter came upon them and chilly winds droned on outside their tent. Hermione often saw Christmas decorations and a cold feeling grasped her suddenly as she remembered the previous Christmas. She had seen her favorite cousins, Andy and Laura, who lived in America and were inseparable. They had all gone to Paris with their parents and had had a wonderful time. Although she had often succumbed to depression and lonely feelings when she remembered Ron and Lavender’s snogging session, her previous holiday had definitely been the best she’d ever had. This one, she imagined, would probably be the worst, with no conscious family, no friends, only Harry…
One night, she was sitting in an armchair reading her Ancient Runes book when Harry posed a question.
“Hermione, I’ve been thinking, and””
“Harry, could you help me with something?” She held her book out and pointed to the rune at the top of the page. “Look at that symbol.”
Harry, feeling slightly disappointed that she had ignored his question, told her that he couldn’t read it as he didn’t understand ancient runes, but soon he realised that the symbol she was pointing to was Grindelwald’s mark. It was quite strange to find it in a book meant for children. When Hermione was finished pondering the mark, he plucked up his courage again and took a deep breath. “Hermione?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been thinking. I”I want to go to Godric’s Hollow.” She looked up and got lost in his beautiful green eyes.
She answered, “Yes. Yes, I’ve been wondering that too. I really think we’ll have to.”
He furrowed his brow. “Did you hear me right?”
She rolled her eyes, childishly toying with him. “Of course I did. You want to go to Godric’s Hollow. I agree. I think we should. I mean, I can’t think of anywhere else it could be either. It’ll be dangerous, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems it’s there.” She stared at him intently and became slightly agitated when he answered her.
“Er” what’s there?”
“Well, the sword, Harry! Dumbledore must have known you’d want to go back there, and I mean, Godric’s Hollow is Godric Gryffindor’s birthplace””
He cut her off. “Really? Gryffindor came from Godric’s Hollow?”
She fumed for a moment. “Harry, did you ever even open A History of Magic?”
A wide smile spread across his face, causing her stomach to squirm uncomfortably. “Erm, I might’ve opened it, you know, when I bought it…just the once…” He turned slightly redder when she grinned back, reminding her of how Ron looked whenever he became humiliated. Their conversation continued for an hour. However, once she started discussing disguises, she saw Harry’s eyes move out of focus, as if daydreaming, while he simultaneously tightened up down south.
“Harry?” she asked loudly. They had been discussing possible methods of stealing hairs for Polyjuice Potion for a quarter of an hour. He blinked and slid up in his chair, placing his hands peculiarly over his lap.
“Yeah, Hermione?” he said, and she grinned when he spoke her name.
“Is that the plan then?” she continued. Harry, clearly unaware of the question, opened his mouth in complete and utter confusion. She rolled her eyes. “The Polyjuice! We should probably wait awhile, maybe a week, until we’re completely prepared and ready. Alright?”
Harry’s face filled with disappointment. “So we’re not gonna be going soon?” he asked, looking straight into her beautiful brown eyes.
“Well, in a few days, maybe three or four. We need to have a foolproof plan, nothing can go wrong.”
Harry nodded. “Alright. Well, we better get to sleep so we can plan early in the morning.” They both walked into the bedroom, which they had been sharing since Ron had left. Harry changed and fell onto the top mattress, while Hermione slept on the bottom bunk. For about half an hour, they both lay under their piles of covers, minds churning and hormones raging, until Harry spoke. “Hey, Mione. Still up?” he questioned.
She cleared her throat and whispered, “Yep. I can’t sleep in this cold, you know?”
Harry, not seen by Hermione, smiled seductively. “Well if you’re really cold, I’ll come down and keep you warm.” He sat up, hot with anticipation.
“Oh, umm… I guess… okay,” she said more confidently, knowing she wouldn’t try anything, wouldn’t want to do anything with him…right?
“Alright. Coming down,” he said. He threw his blanket down and climbed to the floor. Hermione saw a look of glee shimmering on his face as he crawled into her bed. He threw the cover over them and smiled at her. She half-smiled back, afraid of what the outcome of this seemingly innocent seeming act could be. Harry put his warm comforting arms around her icy cold body.
She shivered even more at his touch. “H-h-harry,” she stammered.
“Mhmm…” he answered, enjoying holding her.
She released the tension she was holding and said, “Never mind.” She didn’t want him to let go.
They continued to lay in this fashion for a few minutes, Hermione feeling swept away by his touch, his grasp. She opened her eyes and stared into Harry’s breathtaking green ones, and saw him looking back at her. He moved in and kissed her. She sunk into his lips, but suddenly, he pulled back and climbed out of bed.
“Oh God, I’m sorry. I… I didn’t… umm…” He ran from the room and out into the night, leaving Hermione alone and confused. She looked up at his retreating back and touched her lips, which tingled with anticipation.