In Your Keeping

The wind blew cold, storm clouds darkening a sky that was sunny and beautiful just a few moments ago, a stark contrast to the sullen atmosphere of the two people walking among the graves. It had been three days since the Final Battle with Voldemort, but wounds were still open, emotions still raw, friendships still severed.

She stood alone at the foot of the graves, staring blankly at the names engraved on their faces - Albus Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Padma Patil. The list went on for what seemed like miles to her - people she loved, people she grew up with, the people who had become her family - all gone in an instant. Her eyes strayed to a familiar face standing across the field. He was staring blankly in front of him, eyes closed, letting the wind blow in his face. He looked so vulnerable standing there, and so very alone. It broke her heart to see him this way. It wasn't until he stepped aside and she saw what he was standing in front of, the name on the stone in front of him, that she crossed the field and stood beside him. She waited silently for him to acknowledge her presence, but he merely continued staring straight ahead, trying to convince himself that this was all real.

Ronald Weasley. The name burned itself into her mind like a brand. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still see the letters standing out, taunting her, teasing her, reminding her of what they lost.

"He's gone, Hermione," he said after what seemed like hours of stunned silence. "Ron's dead. I failed."

"You didn't fail, Harry," she said through silent tears, "You saved the lives of so many people on that field. You - you saved my life. You saved me. Doesn't that count for something?"

He was shaking his head furiously from side to side, not allowing himself to believe anything she was saying. She wondered if he was even listening at all. "I promised - I swore that no matter what, I would keep both of you safe. And now he's..." He swallowed, not daring to say the word, as if the entire world would come crashing down on him. "I failed. I failed him." Tears were beginning to fall down his face, tears he hadn't allowed himself to shed for so long. She wasn't even sure he realized he was crying.

"Harry," she began, putting a hand on his shoulder, but he violently shoved her off and started pacing in front of her.

"Why? Why him? Why of all of the people left in my life did he have to take Ron away? First my parents, then Sirius and Dumbledore and Hagrid, and now my best friend." It started to rain in torrents, water soaking both of them to the bone. The first signs of thunder rumbled through the sky. "It's just not fair! I hate him, Hermione, I hate him so much."

She took a tentative step toward him. "I - I know, Harry - "

"No, you don't know!" He yelled so loudly that she took a step back. "You can never know! Why of all people did he have to choose me? Why couldn't it have been Neville that prophecy was about? Why did it have to be me? Voldemort has taken everything from me. Everything that I've ever cared about, everything I've ever loved he's broken and crumbled and thrown at my feet like I was nothing! I don't know what I've done to deserve this Hermione! Why did he have to die Hermione? WHY?"

And that's when the crying started - terrible sobs that wracked his entire body. He shook with repressed emotion finally released in one heart-wrenching, soul tearing cry that shook her from head to toe, more than the crashing thunder that began to echo across the sky. She was rooted to the spot, tears coursing down her cheeks in an unending river of grief. She stepped over to him and put her arms around his shoulders. He tried half-heartedly to push her away, but he had no strength with which to pry her arms from him, so he gave in and let her hold him. When his knees gave out, they sunk to the floor together and she rocked him back and forth, not saying a word. Minutes, hours, days passed by, she didn't notice - time had ceased to exist in that moment and all that mattered was the man in her arms that was still so much like a boy, but meant more to her then the world.

When she finally felt his cries subside, she pulled back and lifted his chin so that she could look into his eyes. She brushed his hair from his face and ran her fingertips down his cheek softly. "I love you," she whispered, so softly that he almost didn't hear her. "And I'm still here," she said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I'm still here," she said, even softer this time. She leaned her forehead against his and she felt his arms go around her shoulders, his lips gently brush hers before he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"I need..." he said slowly, his voice trailing off.

"What?" she asked, lifting his face once again but not forcing him to continue.

He swallowed. "Take me home," he whispered.

She kissed his forehead, wrapped him in her arms, and Apparated them both directly to her bedroom at her flat outside of Muggle London. She sat him down on the bed and immediately noticed that he was shivering from head to foot. "Take off your clothes and wrap yourself in that blanket. I'll get you some dry clothes."

He nodded and she turned her back as he began to strip off his sopping wet clothing. She opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants. The three of them had been leaving clothes at each other's houses since right after their Hogwarts days since it wasn't uncommon for one to visit another unexpectedly after work and stay the night. Hermione hesitantly held up the shirt in her hands and almost started crying again when she realized it was Ron's. She held it up to her face and breathed him in. She could still faintly smell him - pine, spice, and something distinctly Ron - and she closed her eyes. Just for a moment, she imagined Ron was there with them right now.

That vision was shattered when she heard a sniffle and a sneeze behind her and realized that Harry was still waiting for her. She refolded the shirt and placed it back in the drawer, almost reverently before grabbing another in its place and walking over to him. After handing him his clothes, she had every intention of letting him change and then coming back when he was ready, so she placed his things on the bed and started to walk away.

"Wait," he said as she headed for the door. She turned to him and watched as he struggled to say his next words. "Don't leave me," he finally said after a few torturous moments of silence. Her heart ached to hear the pleading tone in his voice and it was all she could do to not take him in her arms and never let him go.

"I..." He looked up at her, green eyes shining with tears. "I need you."

The phrase was short, simple yet said with so much emotion that all she wanted to do was break down and cry for him. She peeled away her own wet clothing and slipped on a long t-shirt as he changed into his own clothes. She climbed into bed on the other side of him and he curled up into her side and pillowed his head on her chest. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and he gently kissed her fingertips as they passed over his face. She could feel his silent tears on her skin just as she was sure he could feel her own soft sobs.

"Go to sleep, love," she whispered as she kissed his hair. "Go to sleep."

He fell asleep almost instantly and she watched him as he slept, his chest silently rising and falling with each breath. She dozed off for a few minutes soon after, but was awakened by his restless movement and quiet mumblings. His hand was gripped in her own, one of his legs lying over hers. She leaned her face near his until they were almost touching and brushed his hair out of his face, hoping she could soothe him into a more peaceful slumber. She realized this had the opposite effect when his eyes slowly fluttered open. She was about to apologize for waking him, but he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. His gaze held her own as they stared at each other, each silently acknowledging the other, emotions waging a war against each other.

It was him that finally gave in and pressed his lips against hers, him that wrapped an arm around her and pulled her so close that she could scarcely breathe, his hand that grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She let his hands roam her body and he touched every inch of her, memorizing every scar, every mark, every curve. He let her pull his shirt over his head and she ran her fingers down his chest, over the fresh cuts forming on his skin. She pressed her lips to the bruises along his ribcage and he expelled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He lifted her up to eye level and kissed her again, laying her down gently under him. He brushed her hair from her face, kissed the hand that was lying on the side of his cheek.

"Tell me that you'll never leave me," he said softly, kissing first her forehead, then each eyelid, then both cheeks before coming to rest again on her mouth. "Let me keep you, Hermione," he said even softer this time, hoping she would understand.

"I'm here, Harry," she said framing his face in her hands. "I'll never leave." She kissed him and whispered, "I'm yours," against his lips.

He gently pulled away from her and looked into her eyes, silently pleading for her understanding. She gave him a small smile before leaning up and kissing the scar on his forehead. Her lips lingered there longer then she had intended and she felt his shoulders tense and then relax under her fingers, felt his whole body sag with a combination of grief and relief.

Exhaustion finally took its toll on him, and he kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose before taking her lips in a soft, tender kiss. He leaned his head on her shoulder putting all of his weight on top of her, but she didn't seem to mind. She stroked his hair and watched as he drifted to sleep before joining him in slumber, content in knowing that they would both still be there in the morning.