Her War

- Her War -

By Kay Elle Hunter

The wizarding world in which Hermione Granger lived was at war. The newspapers were filled with stories of attacks everyday, each as brutal and mysterious as the last. Images and nightmares cascaded witches and wizards minds abroad, the victims and their families were forever haunted and it seemed that the world would undergo a slow and painful death that people were frightened to witness.

Hermione had thought she lived away from such havoc, living with her non-magical family in a small village outside London and took in the Muggle view of things as well as the one she knew to believe. Muggles were oblivious to the idea that a terribly Dark wizard and his supporters were behind the fashionable murders the local police and detectives were trying to find answers to.

They'll never find answers, Hermione sighed to herself, ending the inner conflict within her mind. They'd be better off becoming witnesses to the truth.

Such thoughts overwhelmed Hermione as she stared out the lounge room window of her parent's home. The grotesque, fiery green image of a snake protruding the mouth of a skull hung brightly in the air above old man Suffield's house about a block away. The house had been the exact replica of her own some two hours prior. It was now in ruins: windows broken and the walls blackened and collapsing ... and an array of yellow "CRIME SCENE: KEEP OUT" police tape surrounding the building.

Hermione turned away with a sigh, tired of seeing such destruction within her society, and ran trembling fingers through her bushy brown hair, which sat unbrushed atop her head after her lack of sleep.

A fortnight. A mere fortnight had passed since she had been on her way home on the Hogwarts Express, having just completed her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her time at home couldn't possibly have passed slower.

She wanted to escape and be safe. She wanted to be in the safety of other witches and wizards who were much more powerful than herself. She wanted to be there to know her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were also safe...

... I want everything to be easier to cope with, Hermione thought sadly, the green glow from the Dark Mark glistening in through the window as she sat hopelessly on the couch. Such glow reminded her of the troubles she, Harry and Ron were likely to face in the future. The inner wars she was bound to face in the midst of the violent one going on around her.

The image of Harry and Ron surfaced within her mind and she smiled despite herself, momentarily forgetting all wars she was subject to. Right now, she just desperately wished to see them again.

"You know, Dumbledore's daft for letting you come back here for the summer," Hermione heard a familiar and highly welcome voice say behind her.

Hermione's heart leapt and she looked around for the vision of her favourite red-head. She screamed lightly when she saw the many freckles, the cheeky lopsided grin, the broad shoulders and lanky figure her eyes and heart had grown to adore.

"Ron!"

Hermione leapt to her feet and ran over to him, flinging her arms around him, causing him to drop the broken drinking mug he had been holding.

"H-Hermione," he stammered as she let go, his ears slightly pink.

"When? How?" Hermione was lost for words.

"Just now, by Portkey," Ron replied, looking around awkwardly. "I've come to pick you up, get you somewhere safe. You've got about five minutes to get your stuff. And put this somewhere for you parents to get it."

Ron held up a small parchment envelope with the words "Mr and Mrs Granger" written upon it in a swirling hand of scarlet ink.

Three minutes passed in silence as Hermione gathered her things and joined Ron back in the lounge room, trunk in tow and a small smile on her tired face.

Ron held up the broken mug for Hermione to grab hold of and she obeyed silently, placing her hand next to his on the cool china.

"I've missed you," she whispered lightly to him, causing there gazes to unite a moment before they each felt the jerk behind their navels that meant the Portkey was sending them to the destination of safety.

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place looked different as soon as Hermione's unsteady feet touched the hard wood floor and the calls of greeting from Ron's family reached her ears. The old house, once the property of evil Dark wizards seemed so ... clean!

"Hermione, dear!" Molly Weasley said happily as she pulled the young girl into a bone-crushing hug. "We missed you, dear. Everything alright?"

"Yes, Mrs -"

"Oh, look at those bags under your eyes! You need sleep and plenty of it," Mrs Weasley turned to Ron. "Take her up to Ginny's room, dear. Let her get some rest before lunchtime."

Ron nodded and made to lead the way towards the stairs as Hermione said hello to everyone else before following.

"This place," Hermione said lightly, breaking the silence, and gesturing to the walls surrounding them. "Have you guys been doing some -"

"We've done nothing but cleaning since we arrived at the start of the holidays," Ron answered without looking at her. "Mum wanted to add some cheerful atmosphere. A few glistening cleaning charms and a lot of hands-on cleaning got it like this."

They came to a stop outside a door on the first floor landing. It was the room Hermione had shared with Ginny the summer before. "Here, get some sleep. Mum's bound to get you doing work later today."

Ron looked at Hermione awkwardly and then shuffled his feet, looking at the ground. "You didn't miss me that much did you?"

"I missed you so much," Hermione said with a small smile, wanting to break the awkwardness that had become only too familiar to her over the past year. Something had changed between her and Ron. They'd grown closer and with such closeness it became known to her just what feelings might be floating in the mix of their friendship and the time they spent together, whether alone or otherwise. Never had they spoken of these feelings and the bond that had formed. It seemed unneeded and had instead grown to become a conflict of thoughts and emotions.

Now, however, as Hermione looked into Ron's startling blue eyes, she felt that it had always been needed; they had just always avoided it and therefore that had made it grow out of hand.

As Hermione moved forward to wrap her arms around Ron, she fully understood why they seemed to avoid such a simple conversation.

It wasn't simple at all. With the discussion of awkwardness would come the discussion of feelings and wishes and the reason for her heart to be pounding so desperately in her chest at that moment. The war corrupted the idea that such discussion was right ... and yet it also encouraged it. Neither of them knew what was going to come in the progression of the war they were in; what if things were better said now then never said at all ... said before something bad happens?

As Ron wound his arms around her, Hermione realized that this was the first time Ron had ever openly, truthfully hugged her ... and it was more than any other hug she had received. His hands grazed the small of her back, tiny beneath his large hands and he had to lean forward to let his nose lightly touch her shoulder.

"I missed you too much," Hermione whispered, overwhelmed by emotion for reasons that were sketchy in her own mind, even with all her thinking of the possibilities, the feelings, her realization of the changes and the weight this war placed upon them. The discussion seemed unneeded all because of this contact between the two of them.

Ron's lips brushed her neck once before her pulled away and looked at her. His eyes were watery, as though the weight she felt effected him in the same way and caused all the senses in his body and mind to come to life at once.

A moment of silence fell between them, as a single tear dropped from Hermione's glistening eye. Ron very hesitantly brushed it away with the fingers that immediately interlocked with Hermione's. The silence thickened and the minutes lengthened as Ron slowly leant in; so slowly, in fact, that Hermione almost died holding her breath, waiting for the contact.

His lips were soft, barely touching hers, and they silently spoke all the words that needed to escape both of them as the kiss lightly continued. It was awkward but it was somehow full of everything Hermione had expected.

The breath lingered between them a moment as Ron pulled away slightly and Hermione felt intoxicated when he murmured his words against her lips.

"I love you too much."

A moment later and he was heading down the stairs, Hermione's eyes watching him, full of affection.

Her war was over.

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