I do not own anything Harry Potter related.

Good Night, Good Night

“I really don’t feel like being alone…” Hermione whispered softly, staring out the window into the velvety night. She looked up into the sky, hoping to see the moon or a few stars for comfort, but none of them blinked back at her. Sinking on the couch, Hermione wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them to her chest, burying her face into her lap.

She heard a shuffle of feet move toward her and the pressure of someone sitting next to her on the sofa, an arm slowly wrapping around her shoulders.

“Do you want Harry and me to stay in here then?” Ron asked quietly, rubbing her arm soothingly. Hermione nodded.

Harry stood leaning against the wall, eyeing the heap of dust in the foyer. He clenched his jaw thinking of Snape. Shaking his head, Harry spoke, “Did we bring any sleeping bags?”

Hermione extracted herself from Ron’s arm and scooped up the small beaded purse that had fallen to the ground. She pushed aside a few items, pulling out an odd assortment of socks, muggle coins, and several brilliantly colored vials, until she tugged out a navy colored sleeping bag. Ron leapt off the couch and started to pull at the end of the sleeping bag until it finally lay in a heap on the floor. Another forest green one was forced out shortly followed by a dark violet one.

Harry suddenly felt extremely tired. A yawn escaped his lips and he tore his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He massaged the back of his neck and rolled his head around a few times.

“I think I’m going to change and get to sleep,” he muttered, and swiped at the beaded purse. Luckily, his pajamas were at the top of the stack, and he quickly pulled them out, heading for the bathroom.

Hermione sighed and threw herself on the couch again, curling up in a ball and leaning on the arm.

“Are you okay Hermione?” Ron asked her gently, his voice low and small.

“It’s just…weird, to think, that it’s all starting. I mean, all three of us have been talking about this, leaving to find the Horcruxes, for it seems like forever. All the things we did to prepare for this…and now its actually real,” Hermione’s voice cracked and rose an octave. She felt herself shudder.

Ron was by her on the couch once more. “Well, we’re all in this together. You have me.”

“And Harry,” Hermione added.

“Yeah, and Harry,” Ron said, casting his eyes downward.

Harry walked back into the room, holding his jeans and shirt in one hand, his wand in the other. Wordlessly, Harry began arranging the different colored sleeping bags on the floor, flattening them out, and smoothing the wrinkles.

Hermione found her pajamas next and walked out of the room, leaving Ron and Harry alone.

Silence drifted over the pair of boys; only the sound of rustling fabric met them. Ron remained on the couch, scratching absentmindedly at his scalp.

Soon Hermione reentered and it was Ron’s turn to change. Hermione turned to Harry, starring at him with contemplative eyes.

“What?” Harry asked annoyed. Hermione is helping you with this, remember that. Harry thought to himself. He sighed, “ Sorry Hermione, didn’t mean to sound so--”

“Hostile?” She finished, looking away and sitting on the violet sleeping bag in the center of the line.

Harry couldn’t help but smile a little and sat next to her on the navy sleeping bag to her right.

“Harry, are you scared?” Hermione whispered. There it was again, those big sister “I’m worried about you” eyes.

Harry shrugged, “We have to do this, don’t we?” Avoiding her eyes, Harry lay down on his side, looking at a speck of dust by Hermione’s knee.

“Yes, we do, “Hermione answered, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “For the Order--”

“For Dumbledore.”

“For Family.”

“For Hogwarts.”

“For Love,” Ron’s voice interrupted Harry and Hermione. He looked from brown eyes to green, his own eyes resting finally on Hermione’s hand that lay on Harry’s shoulder. Immediately, she dropped it into her lap.

Harry lay down on his back, his hands folded on his stomach. He heard Hermione sidle into her sleeping bag next to him, until Ron’s voice interjected, “Hermione, take the cushions on the coach, you might be a little more comfortable."

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who had sat up from the floor, then looked over at Ron, who stood over the couch, already pulling on the moth bitten cushion.

“Ron, really, I’m fine, it’s not that bad,” Hermione laughed meekly. She went to lie back down.

“Hermione, seriously, you’ll feel a lot better in the morning if you just use the cushions."

“But Ron--”

“Hermione, just use the cushions,” Harry said exasperated. Hermione seemed startled at hearing Harry’s voice and silently rose from the ground and lifted the sleeping bag up, letting Ron lay down a row of cushions under it.

After a few more words, and exchanged good nights, Harry, Hermione, and Ron had settled on the sitting room floor, the lights out and darkness creeping in on them.

Hermione lay still on her stomach, her hand folded underneath her pillow. The small light coming in through the window from a nearby street lamp gave a small amount of comfort to her, but she still shivered.

An hour or so passed and Hermione still had not been able to sleep. She lay wide-awake, listening to the deep breathing of Harry. She looked over to him and saw his side rise and fall heavily.

Only then did she realize that Ron’s usual snores were absent. Hermione turned onto her side to look at him.

His fiery red hair was pushed above his forehead as if he had been running his hands through his hair, his eyes were shut tightly so that his nose wrinkled and his mouth pursed. Suddenly his face relaxed, “Hermione are you awake?”

“Yes, “She responded silently, watching his eyes slowly open. Even in the dark she could tell how blue they were, the streetlamp’s glow making them shine.

“Ron, I’m worried.”

Ron turned onto his side to face Hermione, scooting closer to speak as to not wake Harry.

“Ron, what if something happens to one of us. What if something happened to Harry? I don’t know how I would live with myself. And what if something happened to you…” her voice trailed off, a small whimper escaped her lips.

“Hermione, I promise, no matter what happens to me, I’ll always be here for you,” Ron murmured.

Hermione smiled, but felt a tear fall sideways down her face, over her nose.

“I hope by parents live a good life, even if I… well, you know,” Hermione didn’t need to finish her sentence.

“Don’t think like that Hermione, you never know what might happen. Yeah there is likelihood for death…but we all die at some point or another, right? At least this way we’re fighting for something,” Ron said it with such assurance it sounded as if he could see the future.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Hermione asked him, shifting out of her sleeping bag and freeing her arms.

Ron shook his head, “I don’t know. All I know is that I hope for the best. I want my family to be okay and I want to be able to tell you that I think I lo--” He stopped himself.

Hermione looked at Ron questioningly, “You want to tell me what?”

“Nothing,” he muttered hurriedly.

“Come on, there was something,” she prodded.

“Um, I wanted to tell you that I think that I, um, that…you’re the best witch of our time, and I don’t know where both Harry and I would be without you,” Ron said quietly.

“Oh,” Hermione replied.

There was silence for a few moments. “You swear you won’t break your promise?” Hermione said almost inaudibly.

“Huh?”

“The promise you made, about you always being there for me,” she clarified.

“Hermione, I swear to you, I will never break that promise,” Ron assured, his voice never faltering.

“You swear?” Hermione asked yet again, reaching her hand out and placing it on his cheek.

“I swear,” Ron echoed. He covered her hand with his, remembering the feel of her touch. He gently took her hand off of his cheek and massaged it with both of his hands.

With his index finger, he drew a heart in her palm, smoothing his finger over her skin. Gently, he brought his lips to her hand, softly leaving a kiss in the center of the heart. He closed her fingers around her palm, gently placing her hand to her side.

Ron smiled awkwardly, a flush, visible even in the dim light, creeping up to his ears. He turned away from Hermione.

“Ron?”

Ron twisted around to look back at Hermione. A small smile was on her lips and a few trails of tears sparkled on her perfect face. He turned all the way back around to face her.

“Thank you,” she took his hand and intertwined their fingers, looking down at them and smiling even wider.

Ron rubbed her hand with his thumb tenderly. “Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night, Ron.”





So what did everyone think? I decided just to write a cutesy fluffy story because most of my stories are darker so here's my hand at something different! I hope you enjoyed! r/r!

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