Ch01

It had been about an hour since Harry sent Hermione into the tent to warm up. He had spent that hour not doing much more than wandering around their camp double and triple checking the protection charms that he knew, since it was Hermione that set them, didn't need to be checked. But that was fine. Harry just wanted something he could do without really thinking about anything. It felt good, the not thinking. Every day for the past few months he had felt as if his head would explode with all the thinking he'd been doing. Where to find the horcruxes, how to avoid the deatheaters, how to find the Sword of Gryffendor. They just rolled through his mind over and over.

But above all that was another thought. Harry had started thinking it about a month back but hadn't really noticed it until recently. It had started small, just a quiet little whisper flitting through his mind while he thought so hard about all the other things. A stray thought: half a second here, half a second there- important enough to have thought it but not all consuming like the other things. But second by second, hour by hour, day by day, little by little the thought became more and more important. And now it was as all-consuming as the other thoughts he struggled with. It was a simple thought but attached to it were so many, many important things. Things Harry didn't want to deal with. Things he shouldn't want to deal with. At least, if only for an hour, he had managed to push it all aside and just… BE.

But now that thought, that simple little thought had crept back into his head. Silent as a whisper and loud as a foghorn it rang in his mind. Hermione… He couldn't push it away. He wasn't even sure he wanted to anymore. Hermione… she'd looked so forlorn when she showed him his broken wand, so frustrated and sad that she couldn't fix it. It wasn't her fault and he wasn't upset but he could almost feel her inside fretting about it. Harry sighed. It was a big one that involved his whole chest and shoulders. Hermione… he would have to go in and talk to her, reassure her that it was all right.

There was only one problem. It was getting harder and harder to face her, to be near her. Hermione… he loved her, he was sure of it now. In fact harry knew the exact moment when it became clear to him what his feelings were for her. They were standing in front of his mother and father's grave. The Christmas Eve air was chill and dark. All was quiet but for the hiss of falling snow and the gentle lullaby whisper of singing coming from inside the chapel. He'd wanted so badly to do something for his parents' grave. To leave some sign that he'd been there, that he cared, and that he loved and missed them.