The Patronus

"Hey, 'Mione, are you okay?" Harry was a few inches in front of her. She hadn't noticed that she had fallen asleep. She was on the cold, hard forest floor, her teeth chattering. Harry was hunched over her, his warm figure emanating heat. He helped her sit up and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to give her warmth.

Hermione's eyes widened as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. He was so close, she felt his breath on her lips. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. As she thought of that, the dream she just had came back to her at full force. Her lips tingled deliciously, as if she really did kiss him. Is it wrong to feel so good even if it was just a dream?

Harry saw her cheeks flushed and his brow furrowed.

"Hermione, are you okay? Do you feel ill? Your cheeks are red. Are you cold?" he blabbered. He placed a hand on her cheek. Hermione blushed some more, her face matched Weasley hair. Good thing Harry misinterpreted it for the cold. For once, during this whole hunt, she was grateful for the biting cold.

"I-I'm f-fine... j-j-just cold, I guess," she said weakly.

Harry didn't seem to buy her response but he chose to let the matter go.

"Well... get inside and catch some more sleep. I'll keep watch," Harry said. Hermione was too flustered and exhausted to argue or even answer so she just silently nodded her assent and let Harry guide her inside the tent. He led her to her own bed, laid her down, and pulled the blankets over her. All the while, Hermione let herself be handled like an obedient pup, practically being carried to her bed.

"Thanks, Harry," she smiled meekly. As soon as Harry put the blankets over her, she proceeded to the land of nod.

Harry brushed some strands from her face as he watched her carefully. She had seemed so distant a while ago, an unusual sight from a person who had just awoken from sleep. Her eyes and body told him she was in deep thought as he noticed she didn't snap at him for treating her like a child and would say that she could take care of herself. Years of friendship resulted to knowing a lot of things about her, even her subtle ways and mannerisms. The hollow look on her face either meant that there was some major processing going on in that brilliant head of hers or that something was bothering her immensely, she was in autopilot.

Sleep, even for a few hours, allowed him to focus on what was happening around him. Though there were still evidences of droopiness in his eyes, he had enough energy to last throughout the night. It was enough to make sure Hermione wouldn't be disturbed. She's been working so hard the past few months, she barely had any time to sleep. Dark bags were under her eyes, her skin had turned sallow, her body became thin, and her cheekbones were becoming prominent. He encourages her daily to try making a potion to make her feel better but she refused, saying the potion ingredient should only be used on emergencies.

Kissing her forehead tenderly, he bade her good night though he knew she would not be able to hear it. Sighing with a heavy heart, he exited out of the tent flap and under the cold night sky. A quilt was on the ground right where they left it as he and Hermione went inside the tent. He grabbed the quilt and wrapped it around himself so he wouldn't freeze. As he breathed in, he noticed Hermione's lingering scent on it and smiled. She always smelt so good even without her perfume. He had told her not to wear her perfume so as to avoid discovery but he didn't know he could actually experience this- her own, natural scent that was so... Hermione. He loved her smell. Sure, he never complained about her perfume but he found he just loved her own scent more.

He looked up at the starry sky. He admired the twinkling little lights and felt a sense of tranquility and relief wash over him. It was increased ten-fold when he knew his best friend was dozing inside, catching up to the lost hours of sleep. He was surprised she managed to function each day with only 3-4 hours of sleep.

He wished she'd stay that way. He'd never wish her dead, mind you, but he only wanted her to sleep until the war is over so she wouldn't get hurt- so she wouldn't die with him. She still had a lot to live for: her parents, their friends, Hogwarts... her future. She can still make it through this bloody war. She can still have a future. He, on the other hand, was a lost cause. The prophecy was evidence enough that there was a 50-50 chance he'll die. But he's already accepted his fated death but before he could, Voldy should die with him. Perhaps it was better that way, anyway. He's brought nothing but danger to the people he cared about- he's a magnet for death.

A rush of cold wind blew past him and he tightened his hold on the quilt. He burrowed his face on the quilt as he waited for the wind to stop blowing towards him. When the torrent ceased, he slowly looked up from his quilt and looked around. He let out a shaky breath and resumed scanning the area for any potential threats. It was going to be a long night, it seemed. But he'd do anything for Hermione.

As he resumed gazing at the stars, a faint light from the corner of his eye brought his attention. Looking at the direction of the light, his eyes widened at the sight before him.

There, in the thick woods, stood a doe. It was in a corporeal form, a Patronus, as bright as the stars. The doe was staring back at him with piercing eyes. His breath caught at the sight of it. It reminded him of his parents, specifically, his mother. Although he hasn't seen her Patronus, he was sure it was hers, as his father's was a stag. It only seemed befitting for them to have matching Patroni. But he felt confused and conflicted.

His mother died when he was but a year old. If it wasn't his mother's, whose was it? It didn't make sense.

Before he can come up with any guesses, the Patronus began to turn and slowly walk away.

"No! Wait!" he called out but it didn't pay him any mind, just continued walking in a slow pace. It seemed it wanted him to follow. Thoughts of Hermione flew out of his mind as he stood up, dropped his quilt, grabbed his wand, and followed the corporeal doe.

He didn't think of what might Hermione say as she chastised him for being careless. The voice inside his head, which was accusingly Hermione's, disagreed with his actions. 'Constant vigilance, Harry! Have you forgotten about what Mad-Eye said- what you drilled into our minds since the first time we were on this hunt? Constant vigilance! Stop and think about the consequences!' it argued. But his mind was already made up.

He caught up with the Patronus and followed it into the woods.