COTE one shots

Grow old together

Uhm hi, I kinda left for a bit. 

Had a tonna shit going on in life, still got a tonna shit going on.

But I still love writing, however shitty my writing is.

Disclaimar: This isn't even COTE. It's a harry potter oneshot. 

I was rewatching the movies and I wanted to write about the grow old together scene if any of you guys have seen it.

And although I don't plan on writing much, I do want to try doing small bits, COTE or not.

I got bored of cote, is that just me?

------

"Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old."

Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper. I turned toward her, watching the way her breath fogged in the frozen air. After everything—the Horcrux, the cold, Ron walking out—it wasn't surprising she felt this way. The war had carved pieces out of both of us.

And yet, in all the bleakness, there was still this: her, beside me.

I didn't answer at first. The silence stretched between us, heavy and cold, before I finally spoke.

"It would be lovely, Hermione. Truly. But we still have a war to finish... and a dark wizard to stop."

"Why?"

The single word caught me off guard. Before I could respond, she said it again, stronger this time.

"Why, Harry? Why do we have to be the ones to save the world? We're teenagers. Our childhoods were stolen from us, and for what? For people who barely look twice at us unless they need saving?"

Her voice cracked, but she pushed on.

"I've been mocked for trying. Called a mudblood. Treated like I'm less than human. I don't owe them anything. And neither do you."

"But Hermione, I'm the Chosen—"

A snowball smacked into my face.

"I've heard that enough times out of your mouth, Potter," she said, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips. Then it faded. "Did you want to be the Chosen One? Did you want the weight of everyone's lives on your shoulders? Ron left us, Harry. He left us to freeze. People don't care about you the way you think they do. You don't owe them your life."

That one stung. It made something inside me twist—doubt, fear, longing. She was offering me peace, a life away from death and danger. A life with her.

For a moment, I wanted it more than anything.

"Hermione... our friends would die. They're counting on us."

She looked down, shoulders trembling.

"I know. And that's why it hurts so much."

I pushed myself off the tree and crossed the short distance between us. She didn't resist when I wrapped my arms around her. Her forehead pressed into my shoulder, her tears soaking through my jacket. The cold seemed to fade as we held each other, clinging to the only warmth we had left.

Letting go felt impossible.

I brushed her hair gently away from her face and pulled her close again, the desire to keep her safe stronger than the fear of what lay ahead.

"We will grow old, Hermione. We'll stay wherever you want. But first... we finish this war. And we win."

She lifted her head, eyes red but steady, meeting mine.

"Promise?" she breathed.

"Promise."

I slipped off my jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Together, we stepped forward into the snow, determination settling over us like armor.

Whatever waited for us, we would face it side by side.

We were going to win. And we were going to win together.