There was a long silence.
“You never told me that.” Harry's voice was devastated.
Hermione fidgeted with the sleeve of her jumper and didn't look up at him. “It was easier to just focus on work than to think about it. I knew the risk when I decided to hide them.”
“I'm sorry.” Harry squeezed her hand. “I'm so so sorry, Hermione.”
“It's fine. I've come to terms with the fact that protecting people may mean losing them.”
“Well, not me. You'll always be my family.”
Before Hermione could say anything, Molly bustled over, holding a camera and dragging Ron with her. “Let's get a picture of you three. Hermione, you scoot over a bit, dear, so Ron can sit next to you. There now. Arms around each other. Harry, try to smooth your hair. Oh, never mind. Smile…”
Hermione couldn't quite manage a smile. The corners of her mouth curled faintly as Ron and Harry's heavy arms wrapped around her shoulders. There was a blinding flash.
“That will be lovely. We haven't gotten a picture of you all together in years.” Molly went over to take a picture of Bill and Fleur.
Ron snorted as he watched his mother posing Fleur and then tugged at one of Hermione's curls that had slipped free from her braids. “A hair out of place; I guess you aren't a Slytherin after all.”
Hermione gave a faint smile. “That must have been why the Sorting Hat stuck me in Gryffindor. It's probably why Harry didn't get sent there either.”
She and Ron both looked over at Harry's tangled head of hair. He looked as though he'd been electrocuted and tried to hide it with pomade. Half of it appeared to have been combed at some point, but the rest stuck up and pointed in various directions.
“What did you do to it?” Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief.
Harry flushed. “I had it combed. And then Ginny and I — erm, snogged.”
Ron made a gagging sound. “Snogged.” He scoffed. “That's my baby sister. Just thinking about you two makes me wanted to gouge my eyes out.”
“Trust me, I've wanted to,” Hermione muttered. “I swear, neither of them know basic privacy or locking charms.”
Harry looked horrified.
“Ronald,” Molly said from across the room. “I want to take a picture with all the siblings! Come over to the tree. Stand next to Ginny.”
Hermione and Harry watched Ron amble over and pose for the family photo. Hermione felt as though her chest were being crushed.
Harry glanced over at Hermione, and she noticed his expression shift slightly before he spoke. “When this is over, I hope things will go back to the way they were.”
He stared at her, and his eyes were young and old at the same time. A lifetime of memories were evoked by those eyes. Hermione's heart caught in her throat as she stared back at him.
She started to open her mouth to say she wished that too. Because she did. She would do anything to somehow emerge on the other side of the war and still have something left.
But before she could say it, Harry caught hold of her hand and gripped it. “You're my family. And I'll always be yours. I know we've fought with each other a lot lately. But I know everything you wanted to do was because you were trying to protect us. I just can't stand the thought of seeing what Dark Magic would do to you. I don't know how to fight to win this war without you, and Ron, and the Weasley Family being there with me on the other side of it. I wish I'd told you this sooner, but I want us to fix things now. You've always looked out for me, better than anyone. I want you to know that I know that.”
Hermione's eyes flooded with tears and her whole body shook.
Harry, you don't even know all I would be willing to do for you.
She opened her mouth and then closed it, swallowing what she wanted to say.
“We haven't won yet, Harry,” she finally said in a hoarse voice.
“I know. I know we've still got long way to go, but I don't want to wait to say this.” Harry took a deep breath. “I haven't looked out for you, and I'm sorry for that. I've been so worried about everyone going on raids, I never stopped to think about how it was for you. Ginny and I were talking, and she mentioned how awful it is in your hospital ward; that all you see is the very worst of every battle, over and over again, and I'm really sorry, I never realised — when Ron and I fought in the past, he always had his family and I always had you, but with this fight about the Dark Arts, he and I were both so focused on the Resistance that we didn't think about you. The three of us were always strongest together. I want us to be that way again. What do you say?”
Hermione stared at Harry and wavered.
Her friend. Her best friend. Her very first friend. She would do anything for him. Anything to protect him.
Anything.
Even give him up.
You already made your choice. If you try to have this, you'll only hurt him more when he finds out what you did. You'll only hurt yourself more if you let yourself believe it's real.
She swallowed and slowly pulled her hand away. It was like crashing in slow motion. Knowing and doing it anyway.
“I don't think I know how to be friends with you anymore, Harry.” Her voice was low and firm.
Harry stared at her, his eyes wide and stunned. “What do you mean?”
Hermione stared down at her hands. A cold, creeping sensation spread through her. “We — we haven't been friends in years, Harry,” she said matter-of-factly. “When exactly did you last treat me like your friend? When have you even walked into the hospital ward when it wasn't to visit someone else?”
“I—“
“I became a healer to try to protect you and you abandoned me for it.”
“I — didn't. Hermione, I'll admit I could have done better, but it's not like Ron and I been having some sort of jolly time without you.”
“Of — course.” Hermione couldn't breathe. She kept speaking in the cruel, relentless voice she had learned from Draco. “You've had no time. Obviously the DA members take precedence; for the sake of unit cohesion. If you hadn't been so busy, I'm sure everything would be different. You would have been able to offer some kind of acknowledgment over the years. But since you had no time, you had no choice but to pat Ron on the shoulder after he called me bitch in front of the entire Order. After all, he is your dueling partner.” Her tone was acrid.
“You were saying we should use the Killing Curse.” Harry's voice was bitter and incredulous.
Hermione gave a faint laugh. “I still want you to.”
There was a stunned silence. The whole room had fallen quiet. Harry was speechless for a full minute. “Still?”
Hermione gave a short nod.
Harry shook his head slowly as though he couldn't believe it.
“I'm a realist, Harry. I want this war to be done. I don't want the Order to think it won and then have everything start all over again in fourteen years, the way it did last time.” Her tone was hard. Tired.
She knew exactly where to cut.
Her heart hurt, her chest too. It felt as though there were something burning inside her abdominal cavity. If Harry were still holding her hand, he'd feel that she was shaking.
“Do you have any idea what Dark Magic does to a person?” Harry's voice was furious.
Hermione kept her expression cold. “Of course I do; I'm a healer. It's my part of speciality. And I'm telling you, it's worth the cost. I'm not telling you to use Dark Rituals or drink unicorn blood, I'm just saying kill people who are trying to kill you. Are you really thinking you can just put him in prison somehow? Do you actually think you'll defeat him with an expelliarmus? Are you willing to bet your life on it? Ron's? Ginny's? The entire Resistance? It is worth it to kill him and his supporters. Do you somehow not hate them enough yet to manage that?”