Harmione One Shots

Could You Imagine That?

Summary: Harry and Hermione accidentally trigger a soulmate bond and seal it with a bit of blood and a pinky promise.

Ship: HarryPotterxHermioneGranger

All credit goes to Arielle_reads on Ao3

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It was the first time in weeks that they were heading to bed on a belly full of food. Hermione would never forget how rich and flavourful the simple bolognese meat sauce tasted. Nor would she forget the slight sugar buzz caused by the heavy syrup that clung to the tinned pears they'd devoured. If they were to survive this war, simple foods like those were ones she would never take for granted again.

Several hours had passed since she'd poured over yet another section of The Tales of Beedle the Bard without any new information, save for that strange symbol she did not yet understand. It didn't matter so much to her at the moment as it had when she'd first discovered it. Instead, the trip she and Harry would be taking to Godric's Hollow tomorrow seemed to be the only thing she had the mental capacity for.

It would be his first time back since the night his parents were murdered and he had been carried out on his now-dead Godfather's bike by Hagrid. Surely, Harry would be struggling to come to terms with the enormity of it all. It was hard to say for certain. Seven years of friendship and there were still days that Hermione felt she didn't know him, or Ron, at all. They were always finding new ways to surprise her–be that good or bad.

She curled onto her side and buried her face into what had been Ron's pillow. It'd been weeks since he left but she swore parts of the bedding on the bottom bunk where she now lay still smelled of his scent. Merlin, she hated him. But she missed him even more. The betrayal of him leaving had crystallised what she had already known deep down but had been afraid to admit for fear of ruining their friendship. Hermione missed Ron in a way that felt as if one of her very limbs were missing. An essential thing, like an arm, or even a leg. She wondered where he was and if he was safe. If he thought about the two of them as much as they thought about him. But she could see now that there was–and would never be–romantic love between them.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she attempted to banish all thoughts of Ron. Worrying about something, or someone, other than what was directly in her path would only take away precious time and energy she needed for other things.

Focus on Harry. Focus on the task at hand. Focus on finding the Sword of Gryffindor. Focus on determining where the rest of the horcruxes are. Focus on staying alive.

The list went on and Hermione repeated each to herself as a sort of litany. One that would hopefully numb her brain to external thoughts that would only add more fuel to the chaos that already reigned inside her mind and maybe allow her a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

***

Harry lay half-awake in the bunk above Hermione, listening to her mumble to herself. It wasn't a new occurrence and he wondered, not for the first time, if the girls in her dorm ever heard her. He wondered if she ever realised she was doing it. The first night they'd slept in the tent, Ron had lasted all of fifteen minutes before calling her on it.

It had been the first of many fights between the three of them while on this wild goose chase. He shook his head to halt that particular train of thought. Thoughts of this impossible task they'd– he'd –been given bogged down his mind during nearly every waking moment already.

Whatever it was that Hermione was whispering to herself became more agitated a moment later. He stuck his head over the railing of the bunk and craned his neck until he found her familiar shape on the bottom bed. She was curled onto her side, body scrunched up so tightly that he was sure her muscles would be a knotted mess in the morning.