40 Days

November 16, 1997

When I woke up for a minute, I thought I had dreamed the whole thing. The vicious fight, Ron leaving... and the frightening night afterwards. But the weight of Harry's arm and the feeling of the locket quickly brought me to reality.

Harry was still in my bed with me. I could hear the soft whistle of his breath, and the relaxation of his body told me he was still asleep. As carefully as I could, I wiggled out from under him, practically crawling onto the floor as I shifted out from under him one limb at a time.

When I stood up and looked at him, he didn't look frightening at all. He looked like Harry, spread out, taking up more space than was available in the small bed. Despite that, I felt a little uneasy as I looked down at him and the snake on the locket glinted almost tauntingly at me.

Resolutely, I shook my head. He had been trying to comfort me while being upset himself and it had just been a rough day for both of us. That's all last night had been. With that in mind I went to the kitchen to start making our meager breakfast and avoided looking in the direction of Ron's empty bed.

I didn't speak to Harry when he got up and we moved around each other in silence, Harry setting out the plates while I finished cooking. Finally, we sat down to eat across from each other, avoiding each other's eyes and eating quickly.

It was different being with just Harry as opposed to all three of us together; I don't know if it's because we were both raised as muggles or because we're both only children, but we do what needs to be done with a minimum of fuss. Where Ron would have complained, Harry and I would glance at each other occasionally and just got about packing up.

I kept expecting Ron to show back up, sheepish and apologizing. I repacked my beaded bag three times, trying to prolong leaving the campsite. A light thump made me glance over to Harry and I found him watching me. I froze, a little guilty as I was about to repack my bag for the fourth time.

His eyebrow quirked up in an unspoken question. How many times will you do that, Hermione?

I blushed, looking away and stopped dawdling. Ron wasn't coming back. I knew I had already procrastinated too much. The bank we camped on was going to be overrun soon by the rising muddy river. Harry came over to me, standing silently by my side as we surveyed the campsite to make sure we didn't leave any traces. Then I reached out for Harry's hand, and he twined his fingers with mine as we apparated away.

We reappeared on a heather covered hillside and I yanked my hand from Harry's, walking away from him to go sit on a large rock. I leaned my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands as I tried not to start crying again. Everything was going to be okay, even with Ron gone. I repeated it over and over in my head.

When scuffed trainers came into my line of sight, I looked up to Harry. Behind him, the tent was already up. He held out his hand to me and I took it, letting him help me up. He pulled me along to the tent, guiding me to a chair.

The silence between us was oppressive, and I didn't know how to break it. I think if I tried, I would start crying again, and I didn't want to upset Harry. He picked up my beaded bag, digging through before pulling out a book, tossing it on my lap where I sat.

It was Hogwarts A History . Not at all what I should be reading, but I found my hands sliding along the cover and slowly flipping it open. I looked up at him to give him a smile of thanks, but he didn't smile back at me, merely nodding and leaving the tent.

It was easy to lose myself in reading. I had read this book so many times before I think I could recite it word for word from front to back. It was comforting and made me remember sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room in front of a warm fire, Harry and Ron on either side of me, all of us happy.