Rekindled Fate

Mundungus Fletcher did not have the locket. Unfortunately, the locket is now in the possession of Dolores Umbridge, and they plan to get it back from her. Hermione brewed Polyjuice Potion while Harry and Ron held three ministry employees and grabbed a few of their hairs so that they, and Hermione can transform into them for a while.

The operation was successful. They were able to grab the locket before fleeing.

Harry felt unusual dizziness of the process of escaping and felt his back fell on something rough, and soft. He opened his eyes and saw a number of trees — realizing he is in a forest. It was when he realized what had happened at the ministry that he abruptly stood up and searched for his friends.

𝐹𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠.

“Hermione!” His eyes widened when he saw her on her back, grunting in pain. He rushed towards to her side at the same pace with Ron. “What happened?!”

“Grab my bag.” She gritted her teeth as she point at her small duffle bag a few meters away from them and pressed her other hand on the splinch on her back. “T-there’s a dittany there.”

Harry rushed to her bag while Ron stayed beside Hermione. He shuffled through her bag to search for the Dittany and used it to tend to Hermione’s splinched back upon her instructions. Hermione’s right. She really is prepared. She got everything inside her tiny bag with her undetectable extension charm. He and Ron helped each other in building a huge tent— that also came from Hermione’s bag, while still looking out for Hermione’s condition.

—
They took parts in wearing the locket. It was dreading. It drains their sanity and calmness out of them. They kept that process for weeks, until Ron snapped.

“Of course you don’t understand!” Ron shouted. He was fuming mad, his face red with anger. “You have no family! Your parents are dead!”

Harry’s anger almost got the better out of him when he attempted to throw himself at Ron, but Hermione casted a Protego quickly to avoid them hurting each other. Ron and Harry yelled words at each other, letting their anguish and anger get the better of them, and Hermione honestly overthinks if this would cause their friendship — not that she would let it happen.

“Then, leave!” Harry yelled. His eyes are bloodshot and his veins are showing on his neck. His chest is thumping up and down in rage, both of them on the brink of madness. If it’s because of the run, or the effect of the Horcrux locket, they don't know, but it sure is taking a toll on their mental states.

“Leave the Horcrux,” Harry finally said.

Ron angrily took the locket off his neck and looked at Hermione. “And you?”

“Me?”

“Are you coming? Or are you staying?”

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat as she looked at Harry before looking back at the latter. Is Ron making her choose? “O-of course… I’m staying.” She sighed, in and opened her mouth again to speak to explain to him. “Ron, we promised to stay. We promised Harry—”

“Of course, you’re staying!” He then threw the locket on the floor before storming outside, with Hermione attempting to follow him but stopped when they heard a familiar 𝑝𝑜𝑝!

“He’s gone! Dissaparated!”

Hermione burst into tears as she sat on one of the rocks she transfigured into portable chairs. She put her face into both of her palms, sobbing as she realize that Ron won’t come back to them; he really had left them. She then stopped sobbing when Harry suddenly grabbed the locket away from her hand and put it unto himself. She watched as he grabbed two blankets from Ron’s bunk and threw it at her before going straight to his bed, his back facing her.

—
Days and weeks passed with them still taking turns in wearing the locket. Hermione stayed inside of the tent, in her own bed for the rest of the day, again refusing to eat. She stayed up covered in her blanket trying to push away the tears flowing from her eyes when she felt someone sat beside her bed.

“Do you remember when Padfoot welcomed us with loud barks when we first came to the cave he hid into before settling in Grimmauld?” Harry leaned on the headboard and smiled at the nothingness in front of him as if he’s reliving the moment. Hermione can’t help but chuckle at the memory, too.

“Ron was too scared and had to hide behind our backs in fear of Padfoot biting him.” It was a hilarious memory. It’s the moment they first visited him in the cave he had hidden himself and Buckbeak after Harry and Hermione rescued them at the end of their third year. Letting go of the mad and crazy image the Golden Trio have been inflicted upon the first news of his escape in Azkaban, Sirius thought it would be better to show them who he truly is, before Azkaban, therefore resulting to one of his Marauders prank— chasing Ron in his animagus form, growling and barking to scare him off.

Hermione noticed that both she and Harry have been laughing at the ridiculous memory of Sirius. This has been the lightest atmosphere they had in days. Who would have thought that Harry’s godfather and her friend would be the one to put them out of their misery for quite a moment?

“I miss him, Hermione,” Harry whispered when their laughter died down. Harry bowed his head and looked at his thighs instead and pursed his lips inwards to prevent a sob coming out of his mouth.

“I do, too.” Hermione’s lips curved into a small smile as she held both of Harry’s hands and gripped it as tight and gently as she could. “I miss Sirius, too, and it’s fine to miss him. He’s family, you know,” she shrugged. “Your family.”

“He’s your family too,” Harry replied. “You know besides me, Sirius takes care of you more than the Weasley children. It’s like he and Remus had taken the both of us under their wing,” he snickered. “Do you remember? Both of them would pick us to go to the library’s sitting room and would often tell us about the pranks they did at Hogwarts?”

Hermione nodded. It was one of the moments with Sirius and Remus that she would cherish the most. While away from her family during the summers, Harry’s godfather and their former professor would take the place as their parents, taking care of them as much as Molly and Arthur take care of their children. Hermione sighed as she leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder and slipped her arm on Harry’s. “Do you think we will be able to find the horcruxes in time, Harry?”

“We would,” he nodded. “We will make sure of that, Mione.” Hermione closed her eyes as she felt her best friend’s lips on her head, reassuringly kissing her on the head to ease her thoughts. The cold she’s been feeling since the start of the horcrux hunt immediately melted the moment Harry’s arms wrapped around her and have been replaced by the familiar warmth only Harry can ever give her. “Mione?”

“Hmm?”

“Please don’t leave me?”

“Never, Harry. You’ll have to leave me first and I’ll still be here waiting.”

—

“Dance with me?”

Hermione looked at the hand offered to her and to its owner: Harry. He has his gentle smile on his face as he waits for her to take his hand. And so she did. She took his hand, and he guided her to stand and walked to the center of their tent.

“There’s no music,” she commented.

“We don’t need to hear music. We can make our own, yeah?” Harry enveloped his arms for a bit on Hermione’s neck to remove the locket from her. It’s been almost a whole day when Hermione wore it, this, affecting her emotions. She had been feeling not just under the weather; clouds of unseen atmosphere clouds her sight and way of thinking, something unknown is blocking her nostrils, and something is filling in the way of her throat. She feels as if she’s drowning.

The moment her head was freed from the horrible locket, Hermione felt as if weights and tons were lifted off her chest. “That felt good,” she whispered in a hoarse voice in a sudden trip of exhaustion.

After a minute of catching her breath she didn’t notice becoming short, Harry once again offered his hand to her, and she smiled before accepting it. She felt more free, and comfortable in holding Harry. Harry’s smiles made her giggle as he started swaying the both of them awkwardly using his hands and feet.

Soon, the awkward movements and dance sways turned to spins, waltz, and slow dancing as the music that surrounded their little dance became a mixture of their laughs, giggles, and humming of a muggle slow love song that was played in the radios. Soon enough, the music playing is not only their humming, but a silent tune only to be heard by their ears; a tune meant only for their hearts to be heard and felt.

As they came to a halt, Hermione swallowed a building lump in her throat as he looked back at Harry. Harry’s eyes were not the usual emerald eyes she had always loved watching since their third year. There is something unusual there. Something that she knew, she would always love to see more. She locked eyes with him as he leaned closer to her, so close she almost gasped at the slow loss of air between them.

“Is this okay?” Harry’s whisper was rough, but gentle. It is something that tells her that he feels the absence of air too; that he also the way she does.

“Yes,” she whispered back.

That must have been all Harry’s been waiting for. The moment Hermione said yes, it was only a matter of second before she felt his lips crashing into hers, brushing gently over her lips.

—
Hermione felt right.

Hermione 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠

right.

As he brush his lips on Hermione’s lips, years of friendship and adventures with her flooded his mind. Friendship laced with the feeling of wanting something more. Something more valuable— something more intimate.

Their foreheads collided gently the moment their lips parted. Breathing heavily, Harry placed his right hand on her cheek. “Are you mad that I kissed you?”

Harry was certain Hermione would hex him into the next oblivion. Throughout the years of their friendship, Hermione never did once showed any signs that she harbor any special and romantic feelings for him. He has been a prat, he knows, but he truly is in love with Hermione. If not being able to think straight, heartbeat racing faster than that of a cheetah, and the way her smile and laugh can literally lighten up his world isn’t a sign of being in love, then maybe he’s just as insane as Bellatrix. 𝐴 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦.

“Are you mental?” That’s it. Hermione will surely pull her wand out— “I love it.” — and hex him— what? Harry looked at her face and saw her smiling.

“You’re not mad?” Harry frowned.

“Do you want me to get mad?”

“No!” He immediately shrieked. “Of course not!”

“Then I won’t.” Hermione lead backwards and took a few step back and giggled for a few seconds. “But why did you kissed me, Harry?”

“Um.. well…” Harry do not know what to say. His lips and mind aren’t forming any words. What should he say? That he’s in love with her for years now? That he’s mad for her? Confess? Or is it better to play safe and say that it’s the horcrux? They don’t know if they will survive and they are so lonely so just for the sake of company, they should snog each other?

“You know what? Nevermind.” Hermione waved her hand to dismiss him and walked forward. The next thing he knew, their lips are not just brushing against each other. They are snogging.

𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑀𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑥𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑟.