Hold Me Close

When Hermione awoke, she could feel Ron’s even breathing on her neck. She sat up, rubbing her eyes.


‘Oh good gods, what have I done?’ she wondered to herself.


She climbed out of bed, and headed to the bathroom. She could not remember ever wanting a shower so badly in her life. She stood under the hot spray for what felt like hours, but no matter how long she stood there, or how much she scrubbed at her skin, she could not wash away the guilt she felt.


She had to tell Ron today. She supposed it was sort of a good thing she hadn’t told him last night, as Harry was determined to go to Godric’s Hollow this morning, and that would have spoiled it, but it was certainly not a good thing that she had allowed to happen. She felt guilty for allowing Ron to make love to her, because her heart belonged to Severus; and she felt guilty for feeling guilty, because Ron was actually her boyfriend, and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with him wanting to make love to her.


“Oh my gods, what is the matter with me?” she asked herself aloud.


“Do your legs feel like rubber bands too? Cause that’s perfectly normal, Love,” Ron said sleepily.


Hermione dropped her washcloth. She had not even heard him come into the room.


“Oh, uh- yeah, ha ha,” Hermione said, face ablaze, heart pounding wildly in her chest.


She heard the trickle of Ron using the toilet. If she hurried, she might be able to get out of the shower before he got into it.


Hermione turned off the shower and opened the curtain, looking around desperately for a towel. She did not want Ron to see her naked any longer than he had to.


Ron looked at Hermione’s glistening skin, eyes lingering momentarily on her abdomen before handing her the towel he had in his hand.


“Aww. I was hoping to join you, before Harry comes round banging our door down.”


“Perhaps if we’d had an earlier start,” Hermione said quickly, covering herself with the towel.


She dried herself, and went into the bedroom, hearing Ron turning the shower on behind her. She quickly dressed, and pulled her hair into a curly bun on her head. She did not want to bother with it today.


As soon as Hermione was dressed and ready, Harry knocked on the door. Hermione opened the door to see Harry with a bag of food in his hand, and a tray of cups with what she assumed was tea.


“Morning, Mione. I’ve brought breakfast for before we go,” he said, handing her the tray. Hermione took it and set it on the table by the window.


“Thank you, Harry. Ron’s still in the shower, but I think a spot of breakfast could do us all well.


She went over to the place on the floor where she had set her bag and opened it, taking out the green vial Severus had given her, along with the vitamins she had gotten from Poppy. She took one of the cups and slowly poured a few drops of each into her tea.


“What the bloody hell are those?” Harry asked her.


“Oh, uh, when I went to Hogwarts, Poppy insisted I take some vitamins. She was convinced I am not eating right,” Hermione said, feeling foolish for not remembering to be discreet.


Harry still looked suspicious, but appeared to be satisfied.


He opened the bag and took out a pastry, handing it to Hermione.


“Thank you,” she said, biting into it.


Harry nodded.


“Ron been in there long?”


“A few minutes, he should be out soon,” Hermione said, trying to ignore the tension that had developed.


“Are you alright, Mione? You have been really off lately,” Harry said.


“I’m fine, Harry, really. I am just nervous about today is all. We have no idea what could be waiting for us at the ruins of your parents’ house,” she said, hoping to take his mind off of her.


“Right. I hope we find a horcrux there. Dumble---” Harry cleared his throat. “Dumbledore said that Voldemort seemed to be putting them in places where he had caused harm and destruction. He certainly caused that there,” he finished softly.


Hermione felt a pang of guilt. Dumbledore’s murder was still fresh for everyone, Harry especially. Dumbledore was the closest thing he had to family.


“We are going to find them, Harry. You will beat him. Dumbledore knew that. He believed in you,” she said softly.


“I know,” he replied, sadness in his eyes.


Ron entered the room wearing only a towel.


“Morning Mate,” he said.


“Morning.”


“Well I think I would like to have a quick walk,” Hermione said, fishing for an excuse to leave the room.


“I’ll join you,” Harry said, obviously not wanting to be in the room when Ron took the towel off.


The pair left the room, stepping out into the crisp morning air.


“It’s really strange, not being in Hogwarts at this time of year,” Hermione commented, trying to make conversation that did not focus on her or Ron.


“Yes, it really is. Although being there without Dumbledore would be even stranger,” he replied.


“Yes, that is definitely true,” Hermione said.


They walked down the street and back, assured it was enough time for Ron to have dressed and eaten before they went back up the rooms to set off on their journey.


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The trio neared the destination that Dumbledore had scribbled on a bit of parchment for Harry sometime in their sixth year. Hermione warned them that if there was in fact a horcrux, it was highly possible there would be deadly wards, or even Death Eaters guarding the ruins. She knew there would be Death Eaters, but could not tell her friends that.


They reached a grove of trees where they disillusioned themselves. It was not by any means a failsafe way to hide themselves, but it did camouflage them, which was better than nothing. They knew this would not be the height of peril for them. Fred and George had given them loads of protective devices, but why risk losing them, or possible damage?


Hermione wanted so badly to tell Harry they should be taking the extra precaution, but how could she? Harry would want to know where she got her information, and she couldn’t blow it…at least not before tonight. She was going to tell Ron tonight.


They entered the rubble that was once Harry’s home. The sight was heartbreaking. Dumbledore had told Harry the house was kept in perfect preservation from the night of his parents’ murder. The Ministry thought it would be disrespectful to do anything otherwise. As with most else, they had only done a half job of it, preserving it, and keeping muggles out, but not guarding it.


The house was mostly rubble, but a lot of the furniture was still in fair condition. They passed a bathroom, and a parlor. The idea that Harry had once lived here in a time when he was just an ordinary baby tugged at Hermione’s heart. It just wasn’t fair what had happened to him.


They found a kitchen, torn to bits, broken chairs, china strewn everywhere. No one said a word as they continued through the derelict house, everyone lost in thought.


There was a broken television and a sofa that looked as though it had been ripped in half. Books were tossed about haphazardly, pages torn from their binds. Linens and drapes shredded to bits covered the floors amongst the brick and wood and plaster.


The trio swept silently among the rubble, coming upon what appeared to be a nursery. The crib had been torn to splinters, clothing and blankets tattered in the mess. Harry picked up a toy bear. He studied it for a moment before his eyes began to fill with tears.


“I r-r-remember something,” he said, shoulders quaking. “My my my mum, she handed this to me, just before, just before he killed her,” he said, trying to choke his tears back, trying to be strong. He hugged the bear tightly, never wanting to let it go.


Ron took Hermione’s hand. Neither knew what to do or to say. They had known coming here could cause something like this, but Harry would not be deterred.


Just then they heard a sound nearby. Hermione and Ron turned instinctively to see two Death Eaters in their traditional black robes, strolling in the rubble.


“I don’t know why he likes to guard this giant rubbish bin,” Macnair said to the other Death Eater. “But the master’s will is what I am to follow, and so I will guard it with my life,” he finished, tossing a brick back and forth between his hands.


“Harry,” Hermione hissed, “come on, we have to go, now.”


Harry got to his feet, still clutching the bear in one hand, wand out and readied.


“I will kill them, Hermione, I will KILL them for supporting that that monster that killed her,” he growled.


Hermione panicked. Harry was not being himself. He was distraught with extreme grief. He could get them all killed.


“Severus, come on! There’s someone disillusioned over there!” Macnair said excitedly, drawing his wand and running towards Hermione and Ron. “We might get some action after all, eh?”


Suddenly, Hermione fell to her back, the disillusionment charm ripped away at her fall. She had been hit with some kind of curse the trio did not recognize.


“Nooo!!” Ron screamed, and he and Harry rushed to her side as a flash of green light was seen behind them. They heard the thud of a body hitting the rubble.


Before Ron or Harry could act, Severus swept over and picked her up.


“PUT HER DOWN RIGHT NOW YOU BLOODY COWARD OR I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND!!!” Harry screamed, wand aimed between Severus’ shoulder blades.


“Mr. Potter, unless you want her to die I suggest you lower you wand,” Severus responded coolly.


“What are you going to do then, you murderer?” Ron spat. “Kill her yourself?”


“Don’t be any more of an idiot than is necessary for you, Weasley. I plan to save her, if Potter would be so kind as to lower his wand.”


Harry lowered his wand looking bewildered.


“Why do you care about her? She’s just a ‘mudblood,’ isn’t she? She’d make a nice prize for your master wouldn’t she?” he said coldly.


“Yes, why are you so concerned?” Ron asked raising his wand at Severus.


“Weasley put that down before you kill someone,” Severus said.


“Yes that will be the intention if you don’t put my girlfriend down,” Ron snapped. “You’re planning to take her back to him aren’t you?”


“Don’t be so utterly ridiculous!” Severus growled, shoving the boy aside and carrying Hermione to the broken bed that belonged to Lily and James Potter.


“What do you want with her??” Ron said, face blazing, thoroughly angry.


“She is carrying my child you imbecile!” Severus snapped harshly, as Hermione awoke.