Marked

He felt her stare for several long moments before she said anything. Not that she needed to, as Harry could tell what she was thinking before the words were formed in her mouth. Hermione put a hand to his wrist, squeezing when he didn't turn to look at her. "Harry, we're not going to go over this again," she said. "You have to eat something."

Harry poked at the cold eggs on his plate with the edge of his fork. "I don't see why."

She frowned at his petulant response and removed her hand from his arm. "Because you're thin enough without nearly starving yourself for days," Hermione began. "You'll need your strength," she added, raising her hand to count on her fingers. "You've got an exam in Herbology and you won't be able to focus if you're hungry."

"I'm thinking of skipping it," Harry said.

Hermione frowned again, but said nothing. Harry was grateful for that small favor. After he'd yelled at her several days previous, she'd stopped questioning his decision to slack off on school work at a moment's notice. He'd argued that his marks wouldn't matter if he wasn't around to receive them. She'd had no response to that except to whisper that he was not going to succumb to a death sentence if she could help it before she left him with a chilly silence. Her silent treatment had lasted about as long as his appetite whenever he thought of the fight ahead. If a few pounds was all he lost in the next few weeks, Harry would count himself lucky.

He continued to stare at his plate as dozens of owls flew into the Great Hall bearing the day's mail. After feeding an owl a piece of toast from her plate, Hermione picked up Harry's letters and opened them. "This one's from your sister," she said, shoving the unfolded pages beneath his nose.

Harry dropped his fork and began scanning the pages in his younger sister's looped handwriting. Every time Raven wrote how much she missed him, Harry thought the idea of scrapping the whole fight and moving with his family to another continent became more appealing. Was it fair that he and Neville might have to sacrifice their lives for the sake of ridding the world of an inhuman monster? No. Not that fairness mattered. Nor would running. Voldemort would continue to destroy everything he could, whether the only two souls in the world who could help stepped up or not. It was merely a matter of surviving the inevitable. Not delaying and certainly not avoiding it altogether.

He turned to the next page Raven had sent and smiled at a drawing she had done of the two of them flying on his broom.

"Your mum must have charmed that for her," Hermione said, referring to the broom circling the page.

Harry nodded. "Raven wrote that this is so she can feel like she's with me at the Quidditch match next month. Mum hasn't told her I probably won't be there at all."

"Harry, not at breakfast," Hermione said.

Another rule, he thought. To keep her sane. Don't depress her with talk of death and Horcruxes before class or she won't be able to concentrate for the entire day. It was silly, as much as all her little rules for keeping their current lives as tame and normal as possible, while ignoring the reality. Harry did it for her, but only because he couldn't take the expression on her face when he began talking about what might happen.

Hermione had been trying to maintain a light attitude about the whole situation, only acknowledging the difficulty of what faced them when they were being pushed during defense practice. The rest of the time her attempts at normality were forced and, if he was going to be honest, bordering on sad. If Harry could figure out how to get her to talk before the fight happened, he would at least be able to go into it knowing she would be okay if the worst happened. Not happy, but accepting.

Since his and Neville's conversation with Dumbledore the previous Saturday, she'd barely let him get in ten words about the prophecy--whether it meant he and Neville could kill Voldemort or if all of them would have to die to rid the world of Horcruxes altogether. Dumbledore took it to mean exactly that, but he had promised to help them be rid of every trace of the dark wizard if they survived the fight. Harry's nightmares had returned, and with them the uncertainty of what might happen. At this point, Harry was only hoping to survive the tension and anxiety that had weighed on them all heavier than before these past six days. Tomorrow, at least, he knew he could spend in bed without having to worry about his professors as well as his girlfriend telling him he looked like he was on his last legs. Saturday would provide a welcome break from all of them putting on a brave face.

"Your mum wants to come by tomorrow," Hermione said. She waved the letter in her hand when he looked up. "She wants to know if we have any weekend plans."

"Just Quidditch and the other practice," Harry responded. "Would you mind writing back to her for me?"

"It's only going to worry her more," Hermione stated. "She's familiar with your handwriting and after reading this, I don't think she appreciates not actually hearing from you."

Harry shoved his plate into the middle of the table and turned to Hermione. "Then you'll just have to make her understand that I'm not in the mood to do things to make her feel better right now. If she's concerned about me, she can come train with us."

"I would think you'd want to talk to her as much as possible." Harry looked across the table at Neville. The other boy was frowning, his arms crossed over a package on the table. "As much as you've told me about how you wish you had your mum around when you were growing up, if I were you, I'd take every opportunity to talk to her now."

"Oh, not you too," Harry said. "The last thing I need is someone else making me feel guilty about it. I just know nothing I say to her is going to make her feel any better."

"Have you ever thought it's not about you making her feel better?" Hermione asked. "Maybe she just wants to hear from you."

"Right," Harry said. Harry looked down at his sister's letter again. The last thing he wanted to talk about was why his mum suddenly began writing to him every other day and wanted to visit for the first time in weeks. She was counting the days until his death just like everyone else. He didn't need to look into her eyes and get yet another reminder that his days were numbered--and the countdown was speeding up with each moment that passed.

He pointed at the package on the table. "What's that?" he asked Neville.

After frowning a bit at Harry's change of subject, the other boy shrugged. "Gran's sent me something. Probably another book of my dad's. I'll look at it after classes." He stood from the table and tucked the box under his arm. He motioned to Lavender. "Walk me to class?"

She nodded and grabbed her bag, motioning to Parvati with one hand as she stood. After giving Hermione a long look, Ron followed, leaving her at the table with Harry as he went back to staring at his cold food.

"You know we're just concerned about you," Hermione said after a few more seconds of watching him in silence. "I want you to take care of yourself and your mum just wants to talk. Maybe it will make things easier for you."

"Will talking make things easier for you?" Harry asked. He ignored her swift intake of breath. "You shouldn't tell me to do something you're not willing to do yourself."

Hermione began reaching under the table for her school bag. "I should go to class."

Harry turned and grabbed her arm, holding tight until she looked up at him. "You have to stop this," he said. "I might be dealing with it in a way you don't like, but at least I'm not in complete denial."

She snatched her arm from his grasp. "I am not in denial. I know exactly what could happen. I'm helping you prepare, remember? I just don't think there's any point in dwelling on the negative when you could be connecting with the people who care about you."

"I'd love to connect with you, if that's still possible," Harry said. He reached for her arm again and stroked his fingers gently against the spot where he'd gripped her before. "This has been rough for both of us, but it doesn't help that every time we're alone, you act like you can barely stand to let me touch you anymore. Our relationship has never been totally about physical stuff, but the way you've been acting the past week or so...did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said. "I didn't realize--it can't have been that long." She began chewing on her bottom lip and Harry could tell she was trying to remember the last time they'd had sex. "We've both had a lot on our minds," she said finally.

"Right, but we've known about Voldemort and the prophecy for a while. And didn't you just say it might be easier to deal with if we talk?" Harry pulled her closer until he could whisper in her ear. "I need you, you know that. I'll make you a promise. If you talk to me about this, really talk to me, I'll let you go on pretending that everything is going to be fine after we confront him." He stroked her hair back from her ear and kissed her cheek. "If you want, we can spend the night pretending like none of this is happening." Harry kissed her again, just below her ear, allowing himself a small smile at her sigh. Hermione leaned closer before glancing around the Great Hall and pushing him away.

"There isn't much to talk about, but I will if that's what you want," Hermione said.

"Good." Harry knew that statement meant as much as it had the previous Saturday, before she'd spent the rest of the night asking him to detail exactly what Dumbledore had said. This time, he would hold her to it.

"If you promise to go to all of your classes today and eat something," she added. Hermione looked up as the bell rang for their first class. The platters of food on the table promptly disappeared. "Lunch and dinner, then. You better polish off at least one full plate at each meal or you'll be lucky to only get the silent treatment from me. I mean it." After a quick squeeze of Harry's shoulder, Hermione picked up her bag and left the Great Hall.

"I missed being with you like this," Hermione said. Harry traced a finger down the center of her back and she arched into his touch. "You were right, I should have been opening up more."

"I understand why you weren't." As Hermione turned over to face him, Harry pulled her closer on the bed. Briefly, he wished that he'd remembered to light the fireplace in the Room of Requirement, but didn't feel like getting out of bed long enough to beat back the creeping chill. "I feel like I've been going crazy the past few weeks," he said. "It can't have been any easier for you."

She sat up abruptly. "No, easier isn't the word I would use." Harry shifted on the bed to sit up next to her. "I'm not named in the prophecy, but I feel like my life is riding on it just the same. It's easier when I remember there are a number of people around who know what's going on and can support you and Neville."

"And you," Harry added after a brief silence. "You're getting plenty of support these days, aren't you?"

Hermione turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if anything happens to me, you'll definitely have Ron there to pick up the pieces," Harry said, frowning. As it had more times than he cared to recall, his mind went back to the way he'd found them outside of the library a couple of weeks before, Hermione caressing Ron's face, Ron blushing and smiling at something she'd said. He'd felt a hard punch to his gut nearly every time he'd walked up on them talking since then. "From the way he looks at you, I'm sure he'd enjoy it a great deal. He might even like to start now. He hasn't exactly been shy about welcoming you to cry on his shoulder."

Hermione clutched the sheet around herself at her chest, stood and backed away from the bed, eyes wide. "Have you lost your mind? You're worried about me and Ron?" She looked around quickly; Harry thought she might be scouring the room for something to throw at him. Her eyes settled on him again. "I'm scared to death for you and it's practically all I can think about. After all I've gone through to be with you--helping to save you from what Snape had done, begging you to be with me, your mother practically calling me a faithless slag to my face--you really think I'd do something with Ron?"

"My mother--what?" Harry's eyes widened and he momentarily forgot the stupid comment he'd made.

"The morning of Professor Snape's funeral," Hermione said. "The talk I had with your mother that made me so upset."

"She said she was worried about us."

"That's what she told you," Hermione responded. "She told me she thought my feelings had changed too quickly, either because I didn't love you before or that I'm only pretending to now so I won't have to be alone." Before Harry could dispute her comment, she added, "She also suggested I only convinced you to be in a relationship by offering to sleep with you." She shrugged and pulled the sheet tighter around herself. "I guess I've proven--to her and you--that I'm willing to use my body to get affection. So much so that you're willing to believe I'd sleep with Ron if you were gone."

At the expression in her eyes, Harry's body went cold in a way that had little to do with his naked state. He felt immediate regret for letting his own absurd jealousy get the better of him. The last time Hermione had given him a look even close to this was in this very room on her birthday, when she had been preparing to walk out. Harry took a step around the bed, reaching his hand towards her briefly before letting it fall to his side.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I don't know what made me say that."

She looked down. "No, it's all right," Hermione said quietly. "That's what you really think of me."

"No, it's not," he said in a firm voice. He frowned and let his eyes wander as he made his next admission. "I'm afraid to lose you."

"You have a fine way of showing it!" She pulled the sheet higher. "How many times do I have to tell you?" Hermione asked. "I'm never going to leave you. And I'm not just going to run off with the first bloke who is nice to me if the worst should happen. That should never be in question."

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I know it's stupid, but I can't help what I think when I see you together. You've been so miserable these past few weeks. I've done that to you." He stopped talking and looked away from Hermione, pulling his arms around himself. The cold was sinking in deeper. "With Ron, you almost seem like a different person," Harry whispered. "He's the only one who's been able to take your mind off of what's happening. Even if it's just for a little while." He looked across the room at his girlfriend. "Every time you smile at him or laugh at one of his jokes, it kills me because I don't know if it means you've finally changed your mind about being with someone who'd destined to die."

"You're not--"

"Hermione, please. This isn't like with the curse. We both know what's most likely to happen, especially with all we've learned about Horcruxes. It may only be a matter of how soon, not if. I've gotten lucky where Voldemort's concerned before, there's no guarantee it'll happen again. I have to wonder if I'm being fair to you," he said. "You felt selfish before for wanting me to love you as much as you loved me. I feel selfish now. I know I should probably let you go because it'll be easier on you when I die."

"You're not--"
"Hermione!" Her chin trembled. Harry looked away again as she began crying. "There are times when I think you might be better off with Ron or someone else who won't leave you the way I will," he said. "It might be easier on you if you leave now. We can be friends and--and you can lean on someone else. I honestly don't know how I'd handle that, but I would if I had to," he whispered. "I never should've said that about you and Ron. I know you'd never do that. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot."

He jumped in surprise as her arms wound around him. He hadn't heard her cross the room. "You are, but I love you anyway. I should have told you what your mother said ages ago, but I was afraid you'd believe what she said about me." She paused and Harry heard her sniffle. "I was also afraid she might be right," Hermione whispered. "I had been pushing so hard and you were resisting. For a little while, I thought you might have been right. Everything had changed and you couldn't be what I need."

Hermione pulled back from the hug and looked up into his eyes, her tears streaming freely. "I was wrong," she said firmly. "Don't ever think otherwise. We love each other and we belong together and I'm not giving that up for what might happen. I don't care how young we are. I don't care what other people think anymore. I don't care that you're a crazy person when it comes to jealousy and possessiveness and everything else," she said, a small smile and sniffle punctuating her words.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again.

"Shh," Hermione nodded and put a finger to his lips. "I forgive you. This time. But if you ever say anything even remotely like that to me again--"

"I'll deserve whatever you throw at me," Harry finished for her. He pulled her close to him and kissed her, tension slowly leaving his body as she kissed him back. In short order the sheet had been dropped, they fell back onto the bed, and Hermione proceeded to remind Harry just how lucky he was--if only for a little while longer.

Hermione paused outside of the Fat Lady's portrait and waited for Harry to catch up to her in the dark. Frowning, she leaned close to the portrait. If she wasn't mistaken, there were a number of voices murmuring on the other side. "What time is it, Harry?"

He glanced down at his watch. "Almost one." He lowered his wand.

"Crap," Hermione said. "That's a lot of noise. There's people in the common room. Did you bring your Invisibility Cloak?"

Harry chuckled. "At this point, I don't think it matters if we sneak in that way or not. They're going to see the door open and close, aren't they?"

Hermione frowned. "I suppose you're right. We may as well take the risk of someone turning us in. We could always say we were doing Astronomy homework or something."

"Like Professor McGonagall doesn't know better," Harry responded. "Besides, we didn't bring any books with us. At least detention won't be half as bad with you," Harry said. He gave the password and waited for the door to swing open into the hallway.

The heads of several people in their house turned when Harry and Hermione ducked under the doorway and walked into the common room. In the center of the crowd Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin stood, the former frantically speaking to Seamus and Ron. Catching sight of the two students near the portrait hole, McGonagall stopped talking abruptly and shouted over the din, "Potter, Granger, where have you been?"

"I...we--" Hermione looked over at Harry and clasped his hand.

"We--we went for a walk," Harry said. "We stopped somewhere to talk and didn't realize how late it had gotten." The Headmistress's eyes narrowed at his thin excuse. She walked over to them and leaned close.

"I'm not going to ask you again," McGonagall said. "I need to know exactly where you've been."

"We were just down the hall," Hermione whispered. She looked around the room again. The other students were all staring, some whispering among themselves as they watched the confrontation. She leaned closer to Harry. Lavender pushed her way through the crowd and ran towards them.

"Have you seen Neville?" she asked.

"No," Harry responded. "Not since dinner. Why?"

"Mr. Longbottom has gone missing," Professor McGonagall said.