Shell Cottage

Wet sand.

It was the first thing Harry noticed. They had escaped. Dobby had done it- he saved them. Harry would have kissed the sand for joy because they had escaped from Malfoy Manor with everyone still in one piece if not for the mind-numbing pain he felt on his shoulder. No, it wasn't anything like the Cruciatus or when he felt Voldemort's emotions or even when Voldemort tried to possess him but it was still painful nonetheless.

His ears rung, his mouth parched, his vision blurry, his body cold and exhausted, and the scent of blood filled his nostrils. He could feel his eyes drooping. He could hear faint voices and though he tried to figure out who was talking, he felt light-headed. He wanted nothing than to close his eyes and let exhaustion take over him but he was scared that if he did, he wouldn't wake up. So he fought the darkness trying to engulf him.

Then he was floating.

'Why am I floating?' Harry thought but even thinking made his head throb. He groaned in pain then felt a hand grasping his. It was soft, firm, and cold. The hand squeezed his in comfort.

Then he felt a warm breath near his ear. "Hold on, Harry."

The voice sounded familiar but he felt that it was the voice of an angel's. Was this his end? Was this angel coming to lead him to his death? No, that can't be. Then a thought went through his mind.

Hermione.

Yes, that's right. It was Hermione's voice filled with worry for him. He hated worrying her. If only he could do something to tell her that he was okay...

"'Mione..." he said in barely a whisper.

Her hand squeezed his again to show him she heard him.

"It's fine, Harry. You'll be fine," she said, pecking his cheek softly.

He smiled weakly at that before finally succumbing to the darkness.

...

Hermione's eyes glistened as she went over the events of that day while holding Harry's hand.

Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment and accomplishment as she saw bruises all over his neck. She didn't know what had gotten over her to take advantage of him like that but she also can't help but feel satisfied as she left evidences of her claim on him for anyone to see. It certainly was worth it despite Mrs. Weasley's confrontation of her. The mother had not been disappointed with her because she and Ron had not gotten together like she expected, but she merely reprimanded Hermione for doing unmentionable things during a war and mentioned birth control potions. Hermione's cheeks were so red the Weasley family would be put to shame as she struggled to reassure Mrs. Weasley that they hadn't gone all the way yet. Yet.

Then there was the matter of Ron. Truth to be told, she had not expected him to be there in Malfoy Manor but she refused profusely to acknowledge him. Ron had tried to apologise about his behaviour but she would have none of it. There was still the matter of the bloody love potions he fed her. Really, six years of friendship didn't mean anything to him? Apparently not.

She really berated herself for exiting the tent that morning. Fenrir Greyback and his merry band of Snatchers had been waiting for them out the tent. What went wrong? Did she forget to set up the wards? Had they been faulty? Had she forgotten to set up a ward? She didn't know but she felt really guilty about it. Harry had to suffer hearing her screams. He didn't realise it, she was sure, but she heard his screams, too. He screamed for her like he was the one being subjected to the torture she received. He seemed so pained it broke her heart hearing him like that. It was much worse than being subjected to the Cruciatus and Bellatrix's knife.

She glanced at the word on her left arm.

Mudblood.

It was such a degrading term but she actually was quite proud of it. It was better than being a Pureblood bigot. Bellatrix had carved it on her during her torture session. She was sure the knife was cursed as the wound didn't fade. She was sure it would scar. But she didn't care. It was evidence of the sacrifices she made to help her best friend fight a war he was the center of. It was evidence that she loved Harry so much she was willing to sacrifice anything for him, even her own life.

But that's something she has in common with Harry. They were willing to risk their own loves for others, especially for those she loves.

Hermione sighed. She ran a hand through Harry's jet black hair which was sticking up at all ends. She smiled as she tried to flatten them but then gave up as his hair was like him- untameable.

Hermione sighed again as she kissed the back of Harry's palm. Why did these things always happen to him? Here he is in front of her, topless, his shoulder bandaged, his arm in a cast. Some blood had come out from the wound despite them managing to stop the bleeding. The wound was deep. She shuddered at the fact. It would leave a scar, she knew. They would both have scars from this ordeal.

She closed her eyes as she held Harry's palm to her face. Oh, how she loved this young man. He had gone through so much in his life.

His parents died when he was one, he lived his whole childhood with his relatives who don't care a whit about him, he had to face Voldemort in his first year, he had to battle a Basilisk in his second, he had to deal with Dementors and the thought his godfather was his parents' betrayer on his third, he had to participate in a tournament he didn't sign up for, saw a fellow champion die, and had his blood used for the resurrection of Voldemort in his fourth, he had to deal with the Ministry's tortures and his godfather died in his fifth, he had to deal with Malfoy and saw a grandfather figure of his die in his sixth, and now this. The Horcrux Hunt.

If only she could whisk him away from all his problems, she would. He shouldn't have to experience all the things that happened to him. What did he do to deserve this? It was unfair, Hermione knew. He was one of the best people she knew and yet he never thought that his life was unfair. That's how he is. Selfless and noble.

She heard a groan. Her eyes snapped open as Harry's eyebrows furrowed though his eyes were still closed.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, squeezing his hand.

Harry squeezed back though he still didn't open his eyes.

"Her-Hermione..." he rasped.

"I'm here, Harry. Open your eyes, please."

Slowly, he did. He blinked then focused his green eyes on her. A smile graced his face.

"Hey," he said.

Hermione chuckled and kissed his hand.

"Hey yourself," she said, smiling.

He tried to raise his right arm but then groaned.

"Ouch," he said. He then looked at his shoulder and saw that it was bandaged as his arm was in a cast. His face lit up in realisation. He looked Hermione for confirmation.

She nodded. "Don't move it, Harry. You haven't fully recovered yet."

He nodded back then his eye caught something. Wrenching his hand from hers, he grabbed her left elbow. Realisation hit Hermione. She wrenched her arm away from him and covered her wrist as his eyes hardened.

"I'm fine, Harry. It's-" she was cut off.

"Don't, Hermione! Just don't! You don't tell me that it's okay! I heard your screams! Merlin, you were just tortured, Hermione! I know how it feels. I've been there so you don't have the right to tell me it's fine because it's not! Being subjected to torture is not okay, Hermione!" Harry's eyes blazed with anger, his green eyes alight, the same shade as the Killing Curse's. He looked ready to kill and if only looks could kill, she would already have been dead.

Hermione sighed and nodded remorsefully. Of course Harry knew. He's been subjected to so much torture he knows how she felt. It was excruciating.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Immediately his eyes softened. He sighed. With his good arm, he sat upright despite Hermione's protests and leaned on the headboard. He bore his eyes through hers.

"Hermione, I'm sorry for snapping at you but... what you went through is something I can't let go easily. You know that already. Merlin, it felt like torture hearing you scream like that. I've heard you scream when you're angry or when you're worried but I've never heard you scream like that- you were in pain. And it's so difficult hearing you scream like that. Like I said, I've been there, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even Malfoy..."

Then his eyes lit up. He laughed. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot to tell you about what this one little ferret did."