Naked Heart

Chapter 4 - Danger ahead

Hermione could hardly believe what she had done. She had left her home, her parents, everything she knew. She was silently following Harry through the dark streets, not even knowing where they were heading. She was starting to think it was all a big mistake.

She had to walk really fast to keep up with Harry's pace. He didn't seem in the mood to talk, and she thought it was better that way.

Finally, after more than an hour, they arrived at a building. It was old and dirty, and it was in the outskirts of Paris. If I had had my wand we could've apparated instead of walking, she thought, while Harry led her to the third floor and knocked on the door from which the number 3 hung.

"Who's there?" a female voice said.

"Me, Neville," said Harry.

That ridiculous name again. Why couldn't he choose something like Jack, or Mike? The door opened and Harry went inside, with Hermione behind. There, holding a wand was Fleur Delacour.

"You're late," she stated, looking at Harry.

"We had to walk," he said simply. Hermione felt a pang of guilt, even though she knew she couldn't do anything about it.

"I see," Fleur said. She kissed Harry on the cheek. Hermione looked around. It was a small room. There was a table and a small bed... One bed. Was this Fleur's house? Or did she share it with him? Looking at them now, whispering really close to each other, Hermione had the feeling that they were a couple.

"Where are your parents?" Fleur asked, looking at her, and, despite herself, Hermione gave a hard look. But why?

"The Grangers thought it might be too risky," Harry answered for her, leaving the suitcase in the floor. Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears, and Fleur took her hand in a friendly gesture. Harry stared at both girls for a while. "I'll be back as soon as possible," he said.

"You're leaving?" Hermione asked, not caring about the tears that now were falling freely down her face.

Harry smiled warmly at her. It was so unusual for him to do it, that Hermione felt comforted right away. "Don't worry, Fleur will keep you busy," he said, and then disapparated.

Fleur put a locking spell in the door and turned to Hermione. "Do you have your documents with you?" she asked.

Hermione took them out of her pocket and gave them to her. There was her muggle ID - her parents had insisted she should have one - and her Witch ID. Fleur stared at both of them. "We'll put this one away," she said, pointing the Witch ID. Then, she went to the table and started working on the muggle ID. She opened the plastic and started changing the name.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you just use magic to do that?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, but a wizard can tell easily if an ID has been altered with magic. That's why we have to do it the muggle way," Fleur replied as she started to scratch off the black print.

In ten minutes, the ID was ready. It now it read: 'Hermione Longbottom' under 'Name'.

"Harry thought it was better if you two pretended to be a married couple. It could stop a lot of questions," Fleur explained. "You look tired. You should rest for a while."

Hermione layed on the bed. But before she fell asleep, she couldn't help but thinking that this was Harry and Fleur's bed...

* * *

She woke up with a startle and the first thing she saw were Harry and Fleur talking softly in the corner. She cleared her throat to let them know she was awake.

"I'm glad you've woke up," Fleur said, grabbing her blue cloak and approaching to Hermione. "I was going to go to work now, but I wanted to wish you good luck on your journey first."

Hermione stood up and gave Fleur a hug. Even though she was jealous of her - of course, she didn't want to admit that - that woman had helped her a lot. "Thank you for everything."

"We'll have some breakfast and then we'll leave," Harry announced when Fleur was shut the door behind her. "Oh, by the way, you need to change your clothes."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" asked Hermione, surprised (and a little offended on her fashion sense, to be honest). She was wearing blue jeans and an old, black, woolen sweater.

"You look like a teenager with them," he replied.

"Last time I checked, I am a teenager," she stated. "And so are you."

Harry sighed. "We're travelling as husband and wife. We have to pretend that we're a little older, don't you think?"

That made sense, of course. Harry told her that Fleur had left some clothes for her in the bathroom. Hermione found there a long, black skirt, a white blouse and a black sweater. She tried them on. They were at least one size bigger, but she didn't mind. She twisted her bushy hair in a tight bun and added a little make up to her face. She wasn't very fond of using it, but now, it was the only thing that could disguise her measly eighteen years.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Harry was putting his own clothes in her suitcase.

"Thanks for asking," she commented with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I thought that it would be better travelling with just one suitcase." He looked at her. "You look nice."

Despite herself, she smiled. "Are you kidding? I look like my mother."

Harry seemed older too. He was wearing blue pants and a green sweater. He put a hat on his head, which hid his scar. They sat down with a cup of coffee and Harry started explaining what they were going to do. They would have to reach Spain disguised as regular muggles. He wasn't even going to carry his wand along... It could compromise them in case they were caught. They would use the train, and then they would have to walk through a path in the mountains. He hoped they wouldn't have any encounters with the people from the FOS.

Hermione nodded. She knew it was going to be dangerous. Harry was taking a huge risk to help her, and she couldn't understand why. She remembered everything that Ginny had told her about him, and now she understood what she had meant with the whole 'hero' thing.

* * *

Hermione shifted, uncomfortable in her third class seat on the train. She had taken the one next to the window. She had her eyes fixed in some women's magazine that Harry had bought in the station. He was sitting right next to her, with a muggle newspaper. She wondered how he could stay so calm, while her legs couldn't stop trembling.

The first part of the trip was uneventful. That was, until the train stopped when they were reaching Chalans. People started whispering immediately. She stopped breathing when three men stepped on the train and started asking for the passenger's IDs. The muggles didn't seem to understand what was happening, but they took out their documents immediately. The three men were obviously wizards, and, to make it worse, from the FOS. They looked threatening. Harry gave her a soothing look, that didn't help to calm her nerves.

"Your ID, miss," one of the wizards ordered, staring at her. Hermione froze. She couldn't move, think or breath.

"Honey, your documents," she heard Harry's voice. Then, he grabbed her purse and took them out. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, staring calmly at the wizard, who was giving a questioning look. He handed him the documents and said, "My wife isn't feeling very well... She's pregnant, you know?"

The wizard grabbed the ID. He gave a hard stare to Harry, but he didn't make any questions.

* * *

Sixteen hours after leaving Paris' station, they finally arrived in Lyon. The rest of the journey had been in silence, and so it was their walk towards the residential where they were going to stay. Hermione waited while Harry paid for the room, and they went upstairs.

Harry opened the door and his face fell. The room was really tiny. The small bed hardly fit in there, and it was the only thing in the room. He turned to look at Hermione, obviously uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I supposed there would be a place on the floor for me to sleep."

Hermione smiled. She entered in the room and lay on the bed. "Don't worry Harry. I'm too tired to try to seduce you tonight," she teased.

Harry hesitated and then entered in the room, closing the door behind him. He lay on the bed, next to Hermione, trying hard not to touch her, but it was impossible, so he gave up. They turned their backs to each other and tried to get some rest.

Hermione spent the next two hours trying to sleep, but she couldn't. She was too embarrased about what had happened in the train. Where was her courage!? They could have caught both of them and all because of her... Harry hadn't made any comments, but she was sure he was disappointed.

That wasn't all she had on her mind. The remorse of leaving her parents was almost killing her. After all, they were trying to protect her. In a wrong way, she reminded herself.

"Are you awake?" she heard Harry asking, in a soft voice.

"Yeah," she answered without turning around. "I'm so ashamed," she muttered.

"Why? Because of what happened on the train?" Hermione nodded. "Don't be. Nothing happened. Anyone would've panicked at a time like that."

"You didn't."

"Well, not today, but the first time I faced the FOS, I did."

Hermione sat on the bed. Harry was looking at her. "Harry, why are you doing this? I mean, why are you helping me?"

Harry rubbed his forehead. He took a whole minute before answering. "Because I had to," he said. Hermione gave him a questioning look, and he sighed. "This is what I do. It's my job to help muggle-borns running away from Slytherin and the FOS."

"I thought you were on the joke-shop business," Hermione said, half joking, half serious.

"I am in that region of business as well. My work with the Weasley twins is one thing," Harry replied. "I've been working with Godric Gryffindor since I left Hogwarts. Ron too... And Mr. Weasley," he said and, even though it was dark, Hermione noticed the sadness in his face.

"What do Ron and the others say about..?" she asked softly, but her voice sounded shrilly.

"They are getting desperate," Harry cleared his throat. "They are moving every string to take them out. You have no idea how many times I had to stop Ron from coming to France and entering in La Santè... Gryffindor has tried to do something but it's almost impossible. If Slytherin finds out about our actions, we're doomed."

A deep silence followed. They remained in their positions, not looking at each other.

"You're sad about what happened with your parents, aren't you?" Harry asked after a while.

Hermione sighed "Yes... I can't forgive myself for abandoning them."

Harry looked at her. "You didn't abandon them. They had you trapped in there, Hermione. You could've--"

"Don't say that," she interrupted him "You don't understand them."

"Yes, you're right, I don't. I can't understand why they were so afraid to leave the country, when their daughter was in danger."

Hermione frowned, but didn't respond. It hurt her deeply to hear that attack to her parents... But what hurt her more was that she didn't understand either. She lay down again and turned her back to him.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, a couple of minutes later. "I shouldn't have said that. It's just that when things are hard for me, I act like an insensitive git."

* * *

When she woke up, Harry was gone. Under different circumstances, she wouldn't have been alarmed, but it was different now. What if they had been found during the night? But she would have woken up, wouldn't she? Besides, she was the muggle-born, not him... Maybe he had abandoned her, decided it wasn't worth risking his life for her.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

Harry had just entered the small room. It was obvious he had just taken a shower. He was carrying two plastic cups of coffee. Hermione realized she must look horrible, with messy hair, wrinkled clothes, and the dumbfounded look on her face that comes with having just woken up, not to mention waking up confused.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, trying to arrange her hair as best she could.

"I have bad news," Harry said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "We'll have to stay here until Friday."

Friday? It was only Tuesday! "Three days? Stuck here? But why?!"

"It's the snow," Harry replied, pointing the small window above the bed. Outside, the streets were white. "The road to Annecy, the place where we need to go, has been closed. They told me it will not be opening until Friday morning."

Hermione bit her lip. If they had their wands, they could just apparate. But hers had been lost long ago, and Harry's was waiting for him in Spain. He had sent it to a friend with his owl, Hedwig.

"That hairstyle suits you well," teased Harry, and Hermione hit him with a pillow.

* * *

"You don't talk much about yourself," Hermione commented to Harry, trying to sound casual and not to curious, which she was.

They were lying on the same bed that night. The day had been uneventful. Harry had suggested that Hermione stay in the house while he gathered some information. They had eaten some Chinese food he had brought and then had gone to bed. This time, they weren't as uncomfortable as the previous night. They were lying on their backs, staring at the rusty ceiling.

"What do you mean? I haven't done anything but talk," Harry said, surprised. It was true. He had spent the last half hour telling her about Godric Gryffindor and the activities the Resistance was doing to stop Slytherin.

"You know what I mean," she said. In the time she had known him, she had come to understand that Harry wasn't a very talkative person-the complete opposite of her. Hermione could spend hours talking about anything. So, in the two hours they had spent lying in bed, she had told him pretty much her whole life story. Her relationship with her parents, with Ginny, her time at school... She had even mentioned the fact that she had never had a boyfriend and that men tended to be somewhat afraid of her.

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a while, "You're right. I guess I'm not used to talking about myself. People usually think they know everything about me just because I defeated Voldemort."

"That must be annoying," Hermione commented.

Harry shrugged, "I guess the only people who really know me are the Weasleys and Sirius."

"Who's Sirius?" she asked.

"He was both my godfather and my father's best friend... I'm sure you've heard of him-- Sirius Black?"

Hermione tried to remember. Yes, the name was indeed familiar...

"You mean... The convict?"

Harry laughed softly. "Yes. Everyone knows him as 'the convict', even though he was innocent."

Hermione listened with great interest while Harry told her everything about his Sirius. She learned that half of Harry's fortune had been inherited from him. He had died a year ago during a special mission for Gryffindor.

"Do you miss him?" asked Hermione, feeling stupid for making such an obvious question.

"Yeah," Harry said, his green eyes fixed on the ceiling. He had removed his glasses and he looked somewhat younger without them. "He was the only father I've ever known."

Hermione felt sorry for him. She was about to say something when Harry suddenly stiffened.

"Wha-?" she started but Harry covered her mouth. He put his glasses on with his free hand and stared through the small window. Hermione followed his gaze. There was a group of people a few feet away, in the street, wearing robes and cloaks. They were shouting and started to run.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione moving only her lips.

"I don't know," replied Harry in the same movements.

"Stop him!" someone shouted outside.

It seemed they were following someone. A middle aged man suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, and Harry and Hermione were able to see his frightened face by looking out of the window.

"Please, don't..." he pleaded to the man who had been chasing him.

"Filthy mudblood," someone muttered with hate. "Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione screamed silently when she saw the man dropping dead in the cold street. Harry held her hand tightly. The wizards disapparated.

Hermione laid her head down, horrified. She felt Harry laying by her side. He didn't say anything, but didn't let go of her hand.

* * *

The trip to Annecy was faster than Hermione had expected. Friday had finally arrived, and now Harry and Hermione were starting their journey through the mountains. The worst part, if you asked her.

Harry had bought two warm cloaks. He had assured her it would be cold, and they would have to cover a lot of ground to reach the house where they were to sleep that night. Harry had a friend who lived up in the mountains and was going to help them.

It was foggy and the snow below their boots cracked as they walked. Hermione was sighing heavily while she tried to keep up with Harry's fast pace. He was a Quidditch player which meant he was of course in great physical condition; but she had never been good at sports. To make it worse, she was starting to feel dizzy.

Harry had barely talked at all that day. He was walking ahead of her, with his eyes fixed on the path. Hermione wished he would say something, but she didn't feel as uncomfortable as before with his silence. The days they had spent in Lyon had been enough to break the ice between them.

Half an hour later he stopped and turned around. He smiled when he saw how tired she looked.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. Her feet hurt. Badly.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I'm fine," she replied.

"Liar," he approached and embraced her. She started to feel warm immediately. They stayed like that for at least five minutes. "Better?" he asked at last and backed away.

"Thank you," she said, blushing. They started walking again. Hermione started singing an old British song her mother had taught her when she was 7. Harry started singing along and they ended up laughing at how bad they sounded.

Hours passed and night fell. The temperature dropped drastically and the fog became denser. Hermione didn't know how high they were, but she felt her lungs burning.

A dog's loud bark made them stop. Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and waited. More barks followed.

"Don't make a sound," whispered Harry in her ear, "There's a FOS base near."

"A FOS base?" Hermione panicked, "You never told me that."

"I'm telling you now," Harry said. Then his face softened, "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you." Somehow, those words calmed her. "Listen to me, Hermione. We are going to leave the path; we'll go through the forest."

He took her hand and led her though the snow, which reached her knees. Moving forward was really hard, but Harry didn't stop. The trees made everything darker and she found it terribly hard to try and not fall forward into the thick, white mass that was snow.

Fifteen minutes later they approached a cliff. Harry looked around; they were near the top of the mountain. They could see the lights of a city below and Hermione guessed it was Vizcaya, the Spain city where they were going. That gave her hope and strength.

"OK, we're almost there," he assured her.

"Stop right there!" a hard voice shouted.

Hermione turned around. There was no one there and she turned to Harry, scared. Without further notice, Harry started to run, not loosening the grip on her hand.

"I said stop!" Three wizards apparated in front of them. A group of dogs behind them were barking menacingly.

"Jesus," muttered Harry and he stood in front of Hermione, protecting her. "They had never used this side of the mountain," he said, not caring about the volume of his voice. "We'll have to surrender."

Hermione gasped. Harry was a spy for Godric Gryffindor. If the FOS caught him, they would kill him immediately.

"NO!" she said.

"What choice do we have?" he asked.

If it wasn't for her, he could have run away easily. He was an expert. He could have even used his magic. It was her fault. She had to do something.

"Enough talking," one of the wizards said. He lifted his wand.

Harry let the suitcase go and grabbed Hermione's waist, throwing her to the ground. A beam of green light passed over their heads. They scrambled to their feet and began to run without looking back. Finally Harry hid behind a huge oak, still holding Hermione. The FOS had followed them closely and they were going to find them any minute.

Once again, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and started running. They heard one of the wizards shouting and the dogs barks. They reached the edge of the cliff. Harry threw a stone. If they fell, there was no chance of living through the fall.

"Follow me," Harry ordered. Hermione looked in awe as he started going down, with the help of the roots and stones. She didn't have a lot of time to think, she trusted him and she followed, even though she was scared to death.

The stones were sharp, and soon her hands were bleeding. They descended 60 feet or so and suddenly Harry ordered her to stop.

"Where are they?" she heard one of the wizards saying. He was at the edge of the cliff. If he looked down, he would spot them immediately.

"Where do you think, you idiot? They went down the cliff."

Harry approached Hermione and pushed her against the side of the cliff. A few beams of light passed next to them. Harry covered her body with his own. She could feel his breathing in her ear and she wondered if he was as frightened as she was. The air was colder on this side of the mountain and Hermione could hardly breathe.

"This is useless. They must have fallen already," another wizard said.

"I saw the girl fall," another assured, "But the man..."

Hermione felt Harry moving and she understood what he was doing. He let the bag he was carrying on his back fall.

"There he goes," the first wizard said and let out a dark laugh. "Let's go back," he said, and they disapparated.

They waited a couple of minutes and then, Harry helped Hermione to climb up.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

She nodded, but she couldn't speak. She tried to stand up, but her legs didn't respond. She was on her knees. Harry kneeled beside her.

"Let's go," he said.

"Just... a minute," she pleaded.

"We're almost there."

"I can't move." What was wrong with her? She was being weak.

"If you stay here, you'll freeze," Harry said. He then helped her to stand up.

They walked a few feet and Hermione saw a wooden house not very far away. The lights were on and there was smoke coming out of the chimney.

A bark made her jump. A huge black dog was running towards them. Hermione couldn't believe it. After all they had done, it was going to end like this??

"Fang, come here boy!" Harry said, and to Hermione's surprise, the dog sat next to them, while Harry scratched its head.

" 'Arry! I was starting to think ya wouldn't make it!"

A very large man was approaching. He had black hair, a beard, and was almost as tall as the trees around them.

"We had an encounter with the FOS," Harry explained. "This is Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley's friend."

"I'm Hagrid, nice to meet ya," Hermione shook his big hand, "Come in ya guys, yer goin' ter freeze out 'ere."

* * *

Hermione was lying under a pile of blankets in Hagrid's barn. To avoid any trouble, Harry had refused to sleep in Hagrid's house and they had went to the barn instead. It was strangely warm inside.

Harry was asleep, three feet away from her. They had eaten with Hagrid and explained what had happened on their journey. Hagrid was a great man in Hermione's opinion, and she would be eternally thankful to him for helping both her and Harry.

She glanced over at Harry's sleeping form. He had some scratches on his face she hadn't noticed before. He must have acquired them when they were running through the forest. She wondered how many times Harry had risked his life to save another.

Then, the expression in his face changed. He looked disturbed. He started moving and panting. After spending three nights with him in the same bed, Hermione knew he didn't move when he was sleeping.

"Harry" she whispered. He didn't wake up, "Harry!" she said louder.

He was still breathing heavily. He obviously had a nightmare. Hermione got out of her 'bed' and approached his. She touched his shoulder slightly and he stopped moving immediately. Instead he grabbed her wrist so tightly that he hurt her.

"It's me, Harry," she whispered.

He stared at her eye-widened. Then, he calmed down and released her wrist. "I'm sorry... It's a bad habit of mine."

"I see you have good reflexes," Hermione commented, holding her wrist. "You were having a nightmare, weren't you?"

He sat down and rubbed his eyes. "I was on that cliff again," he said.

"That must've been lovely," she said sarcastically.

"A lot of people have died there, you know?" Harry said, staring at her, "People who knew this mountain way better than us."

Hermione swallowed hard. She knelt beside him.

"And you followed me without vacillation. I've never seen anyone as brave as you," he added.

"Brave? I'd say stupid. Besides, I didn't have a choice."

"Most people would've preferred to surrender to the FOS."

Hermione stayed silent for a while. Harry kept looking at her. It was the same piercing look he had given her when they had met at Ginny's house.

"I was thinking," she said "What about my parents? If they'd come they would probably..."

"I was thinking the same thing," Harry said, sadly, "If they had come they would've been caught... Or maybe even killed."

Hermione shuddered. "We're alive, Harry," she whispered.

"Barely." He covered his face with his hands. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"I risked your life. I promised you I would protect you."

"And you did!" she said, "Harry, if it hadn't been for you I wouldn't be here now."

He stared at her. His green eyes were so sad... and afraid. It was the first time since she had known him that he had showed weakness. He looked so helpless for that moment that Hermione felt the need to embrace him. She hugged him tightly, so that he'd understood she was there for him. He hugged her back as well.

They stayed like that for a long time. Finally, Harry let her go, but she didn't back away. Their eyes met. They were so close that their foreheads were together.

"Harry..." she muttered, but his mouth was already on hers.

It started as a soft kiss, but soon the passion got the best of them. Nobody had ever kissed her before. And certainly, she had never felt such a rush of emotions. Passion, joy, fear, satisfaction, relief... love. She threw her arms around his neck and she let herself go. She didn't stop to think about morals or anything else.

He was the only thing she needed.