Small Fires: A Bedtime Story for SoftObsidian74

4.

~ so fine ~



They hike on. Hermione is still leading the way.



She still has the map and the compass. Thank heavens for that. She shivers slightly as she remembers danging above the precipice, Harry crawling towards her in order to save her. Oh yes. Talk about trauma. As soon as the war is over, she\'s checking herself into St. Mungo\'s, demanding all the best therapies and treatments available in the wizarding world, welcoming flowers and sweets from her well-meaning, compassionate friends, and not leaving a bloody moment before she\'s damn good and ready to face the terrors of life again. As soon as the war is over, she\'ll fall apart, brilliantly and spectacularly.



Just not yet. Not yet.



Almost over, she tells herself. Soon.



If the map is to be trusted, the journey shouldn\'t last beyond nightfall.



Ron follows her closely, Harry brings up the rear. Their pace is faster, brisker than before. One last effort, one last push. They\'re almost there. So she keeps telling herself.



“You\'re sure it\'s a small mountain ridge?” Ron asks teasingly.



“Very small,” Hermione confirms solemnly. “Tiny.”



“Barely noticeable,” Harry pipes.



“At least on the map,” Hermione agrees. “Reality might be different though...”



They walk.



When they finally arrive to the mountains, they stop for a minute and stare. The mountains look enormous. Their peaks are covered in snow.



“I don\'t bloody believe it,” Ron mutters. “Hermione!”



“What?” she asks. “We all agreed we shouldn\'t be returning the same way we came into the Forest. This was the most logical way...”



“Well yes, but we don\'t have to like it,” Harry says.



Ron rests his hands on their shoulders. Hermione, standing next to Harry now, leans into Ron\'s touch.



She loves them both, she really does. For different reasons, but she does. She loves Ron\'s commitment and determination, and his readiness to sacrifice anything, including her, in order to win the war. She wishes she could be more like him, just as ruthless, just as pitiless... but even as she thinks that, she realizes she loves Harry\'s reckless self-abandon, and ability to sacrifice everything he holds dear, just for her. For them.



As those thoughts swirl in her mind, she realizes how hopelessly doomed she is.



If, once the war is over, she\'s required to make a choice, and choose one of them over the other, she wont\' be able to. She knows that much.



A part of her wishes they could just stay like this, for all eternity, Ron\'s hands resting on their shoulders, soothing them and commanding them to action at once. But she also knows that nothing last forever. Not even this.



“It\'ll take a few hours to hike up there,” she says finally.



“About six hours,” Harry says.



“We could do it in four,” Ron corrects instantly.



“Always the optimist.” Harry is teasing now.



“It\'s in my job description. Section eight, paragraph two.”



“You know what? Fuck you.”



“Later tonight, if you\'re good, pet.”



“You call me pet again, I\'ll punch you,” Harry says. He seems to mean it.



“It\'s a term of endearment,” Ron says unapologetically. “Pet.”



“You really are asking for trouble.”



“Pet, pet, pet.”



“Maybe I won\'t punch you. Maybe I\'ll take my belt to your bare arse.”



“Keep walking, and keep dreaming,” Ron says unamused.



“That\'s all I ever do lately,” Harry says. There\'s laughter in his voice.



They are walking up the steep, barely noticeable path that seems to almost disappear amidst the trees, but Hermione knows where to walk. There\'s a reason she always walks first. She\'s the best at guiding. They each have their unique strengths that complement each other, work in tandem with each other. She couldn\'t have done this with Remus and Tonks, or Bill and Charlie. Ron or Harry couldn\'t have done this without her. They are three and one. Meant to do things like that together. Meant to be together. She believes it.



The path is winding wildly. It\'s inefficient. But she knows better than to try to take shortcuts. She knows how many experienced hikers got lost just by making the mistake of straying off the path.



She thinks of Remus and Tonks and their little cabin near the edge of the Forest. Their goal. Soon, she thinks. They\'re almost there.



She doesn\'t notice as she begins to hum the old Muggle song that was popular long before their time.



The long and winding road that leads to your door

Will never disappear, I\'ve seen that road before

It always leads me here, leads me to your door



To her surprise, Harry\'s voice joins hers, and he sings along quietly,



The wild and windy night that the rain washed away

Has left a pool of tears crying for the day

Don\'t leave me standing here, let me know the way



She tenses slightly, expecting Ron to make fun of them. But Ron simply says, “That\'s nice. Keep singing.”



“I like another one of his,” Harry says, and hums quietly, nostalgically,



I really want to see you

Really want to be with you

Really want to see you, lord

But it takes so long, my lord



Hermione chuckles. Somehow she never figured that Harry might enjoy religious lyrics. Then again, maybe he just likes the tune. “You realize, don\'t you, that George Harrison stole that song from the Chiffons?” Hermione asks.



“I don\'t bloody think so,” Harry mutters.



“Well, the Muggle courts thought so.”



“The Muggle courts are stupid. You\'re stupid,” Harry says in a deliberately childish way, causing her to giggle.



“Have you ever heard the original one?” Hermione asks.



“No.”



She sings out loud now, superimposing different words onto Harry\'s favorite melody:



He\'s so fine

Wish he were mine

That handsome boy over there

The one with the wavy hair



He\'s so fine

Gotta be mine

Sooner or later

We gotta get together

The sooner the better

I just can\'t wait, I just can\'t wait

To be held in his arms



If I were a queen

And he asked me to leave my throne

I\'ll do anything that he asked

Anything to make him my own

For he\'s so fine

so fine



She casts a quick glance at Harry and notices that his cheeks are reddening slightly as he smiles shyly.



“Ok, I\'ll give you this, this is much better,” Harry says quietly. “So which boy is it?”



“Huh?”



“Which boy do you want to make yours? The two of us aren\'t enough for you? Are you planning to add someone else to your harem?”



“Because if you do, we\'ll need to discuss it,” Ron says behind her.



To her shock, Hermione realizes that Ron and Harry sound half-serious. Are the boys bloody insane? Do they really think she\'d give them up for anyone else, or do something to disrupt the blissful, nearly miraculous tri-unity that had evolved between them?



She stops in her tracks and stares at them affectionately. She knows better than to make any fuss over their insecurity.



“Nah,” she says dismissively, lightheartedly. “Just the two of you. Both so fine.”



Harry blushes again slightly, and a spark of triumph flashes in Ron\'s eyes.



And then they walk again.



It takes them almost five hours to make it to the top of the mountain. The air is freezing. There are patches of snow on the ground. The trees are sparse, and the path leading down is rocky, awkward, and steeper than the path they had just took to get here.



“I don\'t like this,” Harry says, looking down.



Hermione shrugs. “You don\'t have to like it. You just have to walk it.”



She leads the way as they begin to climb down. Ron follows her, Harry is behind them. She swears inwardly as the path becomes steeper, and more treacherous.



She hums again, he\'s so fine, and Harry hums as well. The gentle melody soothes them over the hours it takes to climb down.



They\'re more than halfway down when she hears a faint sound that sends a chill down her spine. Harry and Ron look at her quizzically.



“Avalanche,” she says.



To Be Continued...