Warning

This story will not be painting Ron Weasley in the best light. There will be violence and gore since the story takes place in the middle of a war. Depending on which glasses you're wearing this fic may read like a Harmony fic, Harry/Luna fic, or a Lunar Harmony fic. I don't really care which one floats your boat as I won't be getting too explicit about any particular relationship. If any of this mortally offends you, the simple solution would be to go read something else.

Disclaimer

Harry Potter and all associated characters, locations and what not belong to J.K. Rowling and whoever she sells the rights to. I have borrowed these characters, locations and what not in order to mess around with them. In some cases I have lifted a piece of dialogue or scene directly from the books as a touchstone. I do not own anything except the plot and I am not making any money from this endeavor. This applies to the whole story.

Harry Potter was battling his way through hordes of faceless Death Eaters. He couldn't tell where they were coming from or if he was making any progress towards his goal. Just as exhaustion was starting to wear at him they melted away and he was left facing their master.

"Harry Potter, come to die." Voldemort hissed out, his red eyes glowing with malevolence.

"I don't think so, Tom. This will end today!"

"So it will." Harry dodged to the side as bolts of green light began flying towards him. He desperately began firing any and every curse he could think of back at his nemesis. It only took seconds for the Dark Lord's casting speed to overwhelm Harry and one of the green curses struck him in the middle of his chest. To both their surprises absolutely nothing happened. Voldemort cast another Killing Curse, sounding both worried and confused. Harry watched in fascination as this curse too splashed harmlessly against his chest. Voldemort screamed his rage to the skies above them and shook his wand in his fist, watching as it sputtered out some sparks. Flipping it over Voldemort wrenched open the bottom of his wand and checked the batteries. While his enemy was distracted Harry pointed his wand and lashed out with the Priori Incantatem effect. It struck Voldemort like lightning and dropped him to the ground, obviously dead.

Ginny came running towards him across the grounds of Hogwarts, her red hair streaming behind her like a victory banner. Harry couldn't work out why her hair seemed to be longer than Ginny herself, but it didn't seem to be getting in her way so he wasn't going to complain about it. As the youngest Weasley reached the site of the battle she came to a stop next to Voldemort's smoking remains.

"Oh, Harry, what have you done?" she tutted, shaking her head. She knelt down next to the defeated Dark Lord and placed her hand on his forehead. To Harry's horror Voldemort sucked in a gasping breath and his body was lifted off of the ground, following Ginny's hand until it was standing again. When Ginny pulled her hand away from Voldemort's forehead Harry could see that he had been completely healed. "There, that's better isn't it? Don't worry, Harry. I know you'd never be truly happy unless you were fighting him." Ginny's giggles mixed with Voldemort's maniacal cackling until her familiar laugh had turned into Bellatrix's mad screams.

"Don't worry, Baby Potter. I'll just keep resurrecting the Dark Lord for you to fight. I want you to be happy. You'll be able to fight him for the rest of your life! Won't that be fun, Baaaby Poooooottteeeeeeeer?!"

Harry shot straight up in bed, gasping for air as his body pumped adrenaline through his veins. His wand was in his hand and tracking around the room he was in as he scanned it for threats. Slowly his breathing calmed back down to a more normal rate and Harry began to make sense of what he was seeing. He recognised the grey canvas of the tent walls around him. As his eyes grew more used to the darkness around him he identified a lump on the other side of the tent that he knew would be Hermione, sleeping on her own camping cot. Looking past his feet he couldn't see the other lump that would have indicated his other best friend's sleeping form. All at once the absence of snoring and the sight of the empty bed on the boys' side of the tent came together to slam a memory into Harry's mind. Ron's gone. He left us out here; abandoned us.

Harry felt his stomach twist as he remembered his friend's furious departure and the way Hermione had cried all night after she hadn't been able to find him outside. He was sick with the knowledge that their trio was down to two as of a few hours ago and that their mission had just become that much harder as he and Hermione would now have to do the work of three people. I'm not going to be getting back to sleep tonight Harry realised. Between the adrenaline from the nightmare and the realisation of Ron's absence his body was as awake as it was going to get. He quietly summoned his glasses and put them on his nose before slipping out of bed.

To get to the living room area of the tent Harry had to pass Hermione's bunk and he couldn't help but notice the way she seemed to be trembling under her blanket. Ancients, but we half-arsed the preparation. We should have realised that we wouldn't be able to hack it with these ratty things. A flick of his wand brought his own blanket flying over from his cot. Before he could cover his best friend with it inspiration struck and another flick of his wand cast a Warming Charm over Hermione's own blanket first. Harry carefully tucked his blanket around his best friend and found his hand lingering on a lock of hair that he moved to the side so he could see her sleeping face. I hate that she looks stressed even when she's sleeping. He mentally shook himself as he realised what he was doing and gently tucked the lock of hair behind her ear. He retreated to the living area as quietly as he could before throwing up a Silencing Charm between them to make sure that he wouldn't wake Hermione. Goodness knows she needs her rest. I didn't even know you could exhaust yourself crying.

As he let his thoughts wander Harry moved around lighting the gas lamp that hung over the table and checking that there was still enough water left in the kettle before setting it to boil. In the end the menial tasks couldn't save him from his thoughts wandering into unpleasant territory though.

It was hardly the first time that he'd had this particular nightmare. In fact he'd started having it over the summer and he wasn't under any illusions of why that might be. 'I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much.' Harry couldn't stop the shudder that shot through him as Ginny's voice rang out of his memories. Hearing that had been a body blow that had finally landed when he had been lying in his bed the night after Dumbledore's funeral. He had shot up much like he had a few minutes ago as horror set in. She expects me to be happy hunting Voldemort. It's the reason she likes me.

To be fair to Ginny not all of his horror had come directly from the fact that she thought that. A large part of it was due to the fact that if his girlfriend, the person who was supposed to know him best, could think that then it was almost guaranteed that the rest of the wizarding world would have the same idea or another one that was equally wrong-headed. In that moment, lying in his bed in Gryffindor tower, Harry Potter had realised that if he saved the world no one would ever take the time to properly get to know him. A single tear had slid down his cheek as a certainty crystallised in his mind: If I do this I will never have the loving family that I dreamt of. If I date a witch I will forever know that they aren't seeing me. If I date a muggle I will be forced to hide most of my life from her until after we're married which feels like it would be one of the worst things you could do to someone you profess to love. Of course if I don't do this there won't be anyone to start a family with at all. Either way Harry's dreams would never come true and that was a painful realisation.

The whistling of the boiling kettle pulled Harry from his musings and he walked over to pull the whistle off the spout and pour the hot water over the sad looking tea bag in the battered camping mug. As the tea steeped Harry's thoughts went back to his relationship with Ginny. I can't really put all the blame on her. In all honesty if she had no idea who I was then it would be equally true to say that I had no idea who she was. After all, I thought that she knew me better than anyone else.

Liar. You've always known that it was never your girlfriend who knew you best, it was Ron's. The truth of that statement was painful to face on several levels. It was easy to admit that Hermione was the one person in this world who knew him better than any other. It was altogether harder to admit that he was perfectly aware of the fact that the one thing he wanted from a girlfriend he already had with her. He didn't think it was wrong that they had that level of understanding between them, but he was aware that any woman that he would ever consider dating would be measured against Hermione Granger. It might not be wrong of me to have that level of understanding with Hermione but it is patently unfair to any and all of my future girlfriends to compare them to her. Harry shook his head ruefully as he tried to imagine the force of nature that would be the woman who could measure up to his best friend.

His lighter thoughts died a quick death as he remembered that he had to think of that same best friend as Ron's girlfriend; a fact that was all the more painful for what had happened earlier. When you look at it like that I can forgive him for ditching me; this is an absolutely thankless, gruelling mission and he was right that I'm flailing about in the dark without a clue as to what I'm doing… but how could he abandon Hermione? I'm starting to think that 'dating' doesn't mean what I think it does. Harry could feel his first instinct welling up in him and was slightly ashamed that it was 'ask Hermione'. Don't be a heartless bastard, Potter. 'Hey, Hermione? I know you're an absolute wreck over Ron leaving, but would you mind letting me rub salt in the wound to satisfy my curiosity?' Sure, why not dump the whole mission on her shoulders while you're at it?

Still chastising himself for even thinking, however briefly, of adding to Hermione's burden that way Harry took the teabag out of the mug and threw it away with slightly more force than strictly necessary. He stomped over to the table, taking full advantage of the Silencing Charm he'd put up earlier, and flung himself into one of the chairs after setting his mug on the table. As his chuntering thoughts calmed down Harry realised that he had unknowingly asked a question that he felt he really needed an answer to. Why did Ron abandon Hermione? What was it that pushed him over that line?

The locket probably played at least a part in what happened; that damn thing just oozes evil. Harry took a moment to glare at the offending treasure where it still lay on one of the chairs. I wish Hermione had never made me read those damn Lord of the Rings books. Every time I see that thing I think of how the Ring was able to induce its surroundings to move it closer to its master. The only way to safely move it around was to give it to someone who wouldn't give into it's call… and Ron couldn't resist it; not entirely. Harry sighed as he tried to remember the words his friend had said before storming out of the tent.

There is no way that the locket could have done this by itself; Ron's stronger than that. He mentioned worrying about his family… that could have given the horcrux something to manipulate. There was nothing we could do about that that we aren't already doing though. The only way to get everyone out of danger is to end this war and to do that we need to find and destroy Voldemort's horcruxes. What else did he say?

"It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here, you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we'd been running round a few weeks, we'd have achieved something." Harry could hear the words in his memory as clearly as if they had just been spoken out loud. I just don't understand it. We're all cold and hungry. Pain is a fact of life. How could those things drive Ron to the kind of mental state that the locket could exploit? I had worse some winters at the Dursleys, for pity's sake. Suddenly Harry felt like he had had a bucket of ice water dumped down his spine. I've had worse at the Dursleys… Ron and Hermione had families that loved them… I've been an idiot!

When I told them that we'd be in for hard times we all understood that to mean something different. Ron probably thinks that 'going without food' means 'going without food for a day'. 'Cold' might mean 'weather I would wear a coat in'. As the realisation percolated through his understanding Harry dropped his head into his hands and groaned. Damn it, I should have seen this coming. If I had realised it sooner I might have been able to prevent that ancients cursed horcrux from messing with my friend's head. Ron could still be here with us and Hermione wouldn't be lying in her bed with tear tracks staining her cheeks.

For the second time in a matter of minutes Harry froze as an epiphany washed over him. Hermione is still here… but she might succumb to the locket next if I don't do something. The thought of Hermione not being there felt like staring into a bottomless abyss and it terrified Harry. If Hermione left he might as well just fire an Avada Kedavra into his own face. Desperately Harry fought his emotions back and beat them into submission so that he could think about the recently uncovered problem rationally; well, without gibbering in terror at least.

Right… Hermione is still here. She hasn't left yet; focus on that. The fact that Hermione was still here despite having faced the locket's predations didn't really surprise Harry after a bit of thought. Anyone who knows Hermione knows that she's easily the strongest of the three of us. I can't afford to rely on her strength until it breaks though so think! What can I do to minimise the burden on Hermione? The first things Harry went through were the basic needs that Ron had listed. I need to make sure that she is at least warm and well fed. Hermione doesn't attach the same level of importance to those things as Ron does, but she's never faced real starvation either. Now that Harry had realised that his experiences with the Dursleys had left him better prepared to face the consequences of starvation he started mentally revising their rationing to account for how much deprivation each of them could take. He got up to check the kitchen cupboards and was dismayed at how bare they were. We'll have to go shopping. Harry remembered how Hermione had reacted to the idea of heading out to buy supplies and amended his resolution to 'I need to go shopping'. I'll also have to hide what I'm doing from Hermione. If she's worrying needlessly then I'll have failed in my task of keeping her safe from the locket. The trick will be to find a time when I can head out while the shops are still open. Nothing for it but to keep my eyes open and be ready to take any chance I get. Harry made a shopping list of things he could easily pass off as non-perishables that he had 'found' in a cupboard. I may have to make up a story about a Notice-Me-Not Charm gone wrong or something, but if I'm right Hermione will be too hungry to look at the story too closely… at least I hope she won't look at it too closely.

Harry also resolved to find some hot water bottles or something that could provide them with extra warmth that he could find in this 'hidden cabinet'. I wonder which one I should tell Hermione I found these things in… of course! Harry quickly emptied out one of the cupboards and cast as strong a Notice-Me-Not charm on it as he could. Grinning to himself in satisfaction Harry made his way back over to the table and picked up his tea only to discover that it was stone cold. Even that couldn't dampen his mood and he forced himself to drink the stuff rather than throw it out and waste it. Come morning we will be starting a new chapter in this hunt, even if I will be the only one who knows about it. With a happy grin Harry picked up the book he had been reading before Hermione had worked out that they needed the Sword of Gryffindor.

:-:-:-:-:

Harry shot up with a jerk from where his face was pressed into something unfamiliar. A surprised look revealed that he had apparently fallen asleep on the book he had been reading. Guess I was able to fall asleep again after all Harry thought to himself as he stretched the kinks out of his back. Something popped and Harry shivered as he realised that the early morning chill felt like it had settled into his bones. He grabbed the bucket they kept next to the stove and headed out to fill it in the stream just within the protective spells that they had set up. A minute later he was back in the tent and even colder from both the morning air outside the tent and a splash of water that had sloshed over the edge of the bucket in a moment of inattentiveness. Harry set the water down and cast the Purifying Charm that Hermione had taught him once they had been forced to start camping.

Once he had the kettle filled and placed on its hob again Harry moved over to the sleeping area to check on Hermione. He saw that she was sleeping peacefully. Good. I'll just let her sleep. She needs it. Harry sat at the table while he waited for the kettle to boil and reviewed the decisions he had made the night before. He was relieved that they held up in the clear light of day as well as they had a few hours earlier. Feeling his stomach growl Harry considered how he would start to put his plan into action. In the end he decided that he would make breakfast as if there were still three of them. He carefully loaded the baked beans and toast onto two plates before scraping most of the food onto one of them which he placed under a Warming Charm to wait for Hermione. Harry quickly ate his 'Dursley portion' and carefully left the dirty plate next to the sink so that Hermione would notice it.

Once he'd finished Harry picked his book up again and resumed his studying. An hour later Hermione still hadn't woken up and Harry was berating himself for not having taken the first opportunity that had arisen to do the necessary shopping. The possibility that she would wake up while I was gone is just too great he tried to remind himself. Following that thought led Harry to consider what might happen if Hermione's fears about visiting a store came true. I don't really think that I'll be attacked in the muggle world. I'll even use a glamour so that there is no way for people who might run into a wizard to accidentally pass on that they've seen me. Still, what should I do if something does happen?

In the end Harry decided to write a letter to Hermione in which he explained why he had made his decision. He slipped it into the Notice-Me-Not Charmed cupboard for now. I'll leave it on my bed under another charm when I leave. If I die then the charm will fail and Hermione will know that she should run away from here and go hide with her parents. It was a morbid and unsettling precaution to take, but Harry couldn't justify leaving Hermione in the dark if something should happen to him against all odds. He was still working through having a tangible confirmation of his own mortality when he heard a noise coming from the direction of the sleeping area. Harry's head jerked towards the sound and he was met with the sight of a thoroughly depressed looking Hermione Granger. Her hair was mussed and bushier-looking than usual, her eyes were bleary and everything about her stance made it seem like she was being weighed down by invisible restraints.

"Good morning, Hermione." he tried. Hermione's eyes came up to meet his and Harry felt something in his chest constrict at the empty look in those brown orbs. "There's breakfast under a Warming Charm." Hermione nodded slightly and shuffled over to the counter to pick up the plate and a fork before shuffling over to the table and making a start on her breakfast. Harry quickly noticed that she was pushing her food around on her plate more than she was eating it. Oh no, you don't. I'm not letting you fall prey to that damn horcrux and it starts with getting you to eat. "Hermione, you need to eat. We need to keep our strength up." Hermione shot him a dirty glare but shovelled a forkful of beans into her mouth and chewed. Well, at least it's a reaction. I'll go step by step if I have to. Harry was treated to another glare when Hermione had finished her breakfast, but he hoped that it was down to Hermione's general mood and not an indication that he was too late to prevent his best friend from following Ron out the door.

For the rest of the day the two teens worked their way through the books in front of them in silence. Harry kept a surreptitious eye on Hermione and more than once caught her looking up hopefully at the entrance to the tent. As the day passed her face became more and more dejected every time she realised that whatever had drawn her attention in that direction wasn't Ron coming back to them; to her. Halfway through the afternoon Hermione had apparently had all she could handle of the tension that hoping Ron would return had produced. She slammed her book shut and shot to her feet.

"I'm going to bed." They were the first and only words she had spoken all day. Harry watched her stalk into the sleeping area and drop onto her bed, turning her back on him. If she falls asleep I'll have to go out and do our shopping. It disturbed Harry that he was thinking so coldly and clinically about the opportunities that Hermione's misery provided. I have no idea how to help her other than the plan I came up with last night. After today I think I may have underestimated the effect that Ron leaving would have on her though. If I'm not careful that will be the weakness that the horcrux tries to exploit. Since he was waiting for Hermione to fall asleep anyway Harry tried to think of ways to pull her out of her funk. Unfortunately he soon realised that he might possibly be the worst possible option to help Hermione with an emotional problem. She's the one I go to for help with this sort of thing. How am I supposed to help her? What do I do?

He set the problem aside for the moment to concentrate on the problem he could solve. The rise and fall of Hermione's ribcage slowly became more regular. Harry waited a few minutes longer to be sure that he would be able to leave and come back unnoticed. Finally he couldn't put his task off any more or he would run the risk of ending up in the situation he had been in this morning where the chance of Hermione waking up became too great to risk leaving.

Harry stood up and retrieved his letter from the charmed cupboard. He placed it on his pillow and added another powerful Notice-Me-Not Charm. With one final look at his sleeping friend Harry walked out of the tent, casting a Silencing Charm as he left so that Hermione wouldn't be woken up by the sound of his apparition. A quick glamour charm have him nondescript brown hair and eyes. Taking a deep breath Harry focused on his magic and disappeared with a soft crack.

He reappeared outside a shopping centre in Little Whinging and started walking. He ignored all the stores and made his way over to his first target: an ATM from which he remembered Aunt Petunia withdrawing money one of the few times he had been allowed out of the house with her and Dudley. He found it easily enough considering he hadn't been sure of exactly where it was and then settled in to wait. Thankfully the machine saw quite a bit of use and Harry didn't have to wait long for someone to approach it and insert their card. Harry drew his wand and forced down the wave of guilt over what he was about to do. As the little slot opened to disgorge the requested amount of money Harry reached his magic as deeply into the machine as he could and non-verbally cast his spell. Accio banknotes.

The woman who had made the original withdrawal barely had time to get her own money out of the way before the machine began vomiting a storm of banknotes in all denominations. All around Harry the shopping centre seemed to come to a halt as everyone saw the money spewing forth. For a heartbeat nobody moved and then, as if at some unspoken signal, the race was on. Everyone ran as fast as they could to get at the free money landing on the side-walk and Harry made sure to look like one of the crowd as he scrabbled to get enough of the acutely redistributed wealth to accomplish the next step of his plan. He managed to collect roughly a thousand pounds before he escaped the scrum of people wanting every last banknote they could get their hands on. As he hurried to an out of the way spot for another apparition Harry made himself a silent promise. After the war ends I'll convert some galleons and pay the bank back. It didn't completely stop the feeling that he had finally become what the Dursleys had always told the neighbours he was: a criminal.

Forcing himself to concentrate on his next destination Harry popped out of existence and reappeared behind a supermarket a few towns over that Petunia had visited on occasion to buy food in bulk for her ever growing son and husband. This location Harry was more familiar with considering how often he had been drafted to carry the purchases out to the car and later into the kitchen. Harry walked calmly through the sliding doors and into the store itself. He grabbed a trolley and started filling it with the groceries he had planned out. He bought rice and pasta to last them for months, grabbed tins of beans and vegetables by the dozen and shoved tinned tuna and salmon on top of it all until he was worried the trolley might give way. He found bags of oatmeal and tubs of powdered milk that would make them a good breakfast and as a finishing touch grabbed some spices, a few packets of raisins and some tinned fruits to make sure that he could introduce some variety on special occasions. While he hadn't planned on it he also collected several boxes of tea, reasoning that they'd be grateful for a warm drink in the winter months to come.

When he got to the till he saw the eyes of the girl working there widen considerably. Harry grinned apologetically and started loading his groceries onto the belt. The girl picked up a phone and asked for some help in a hurried tone before hanging up and starting to process Harry's shopping. The tins and packets were just starting to build up on the far side of the till when another employee, this one a pimply faced boy, came running up to them. He took one look at the mass of groceries and immediately jumped in to start packing them into bags. By the time Harry had finished loading everything onto the belt he could start putting the bags back in the trolley.

"Is that everything, sir?" the girl behind the till asked, sounding like she still hadn't quite come to terms with the idea of someone buying so much.

"Unless you could point me in the direction of a couple of hot water bottles I think this should be it." Harry responded, half hoping that he had missed an aisle somewhere on his spree.

"Um, I don't know, sir. My boyfriend and I did get some wonderful hot stone massages the other day though."

"Hot stone massages?" Harry wondered.

"Oh yes, sir!" the girl gushed. "Why, what they do is heat up some really smooth river stones and use them to massage your body. The therapist even told us that people have been using hot rocks for all sorts of things since thousands of years ago. I think she even mentioned that wrapping them in animal skins is how cavemen stayed warm in the winter." Suddenly the girl blushed. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to carry on like that."

"Not at all. In fact I think I may have to look into this hot stone thing if it comes so highly recommended." I have a task for when I get back to the tent! Hot stones… how did we not think of that if even cavemen came up with it?!

The girl enthusiastically gave Harry the address to the spa she and her boyfriend had visited and Harry pretended to pay attention. Once everything was loaded up and the necessary information exchanged, Harry paid three-quarters of his ill-gotten money for the food. He declined any help to get everything into his car. A quick visit to the spot where he had appeared and Harry's pockets were bulging with dozens of shrunken and lightened bags. He made sure to drop off the trolley and spared a wave for the two employees who had helped him. Finally Harry apparated back to the tent.

His first move was to make sure that Hermione hadn't woken to find him gone, but she was thankfully still asleep. Harry sorted out the groceries and placed what he considered a reasonable selection in the charmed cupboard. The rest of his haul was hidden under his bed and a veritable fortress of concealing charms. Collapsing in one of the chairs in the living area, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. Now I just need to figure out how we're going to 'discover' the charmed cupboard. Hermione finding it would make it the most believable, but I have no idea how to make that happen.

Shrugging it off for now Harry headed back out of the tent and over to the stream where he had gotten their water that morning. He walked along the bank scanning it for suitable stones, even if he had no idea what that might be. That girl said that they used smooth stones so I guess I'll just look for those. Harry kept at his task until he had a considerable pile of palm sized stones sitting on the bank. By then he was once again starting to feel the November chill settling deep into his body. He rushed back into the tent and loaded the stones into the oven and turned it on. He didn't know how long they might have to bake, but there was only one way to find out.

To kill some time while he waited for the stones to heat up, Harry picked up the book Hermione had been reading in the hope that it would contain a hint for creating a horcrux detection spell. She really is brilliant. The book itself was full of distasteful spells that Harry would rather never have known. He realised that to fight the darkness they were faced with they would need to know about it, but even with everything they had learnt about the Dark Arts recently they weren't a step closer to their ultimate goal of finding Voldemort's horcruxes. Harry just resigned himself to having to work through the books anyway. I promised that I would do anything I could to reduce the pressure on Hermione. I may not be able to take over the research but I can at least make sure that she doesn't have to explain every little thing to me on top of that. The memory of Ron leaving and the anguish it brought were fresh enough that Harry managed to find the motivation to study even the Dark Arts in the hope that it would keep Hermione by his side a little longer. The world has officially stopped making sense.

After about half an hour Harry checked on the stones and nearly scorched his fingers. Note to self: stones aren't pies, don't bake them like they are. Harry levitated the rocks into a blanket and wrapped them up. He used a spell to check their temperature every so often and occasionally set the bundle in his lap to get a better feel for what the numbers meant. Eventually the stones in the blanket cooled down enough that they were very comfortable to keep a hold of while reading.

He had managed to make slow but stubborn progress through the book by the time Hermione stirred again. She came out of the sleeping area and immediately started drawing out pots and pans from the cupboards. Harry decided to just let her get on with it. Cooking can be a wonderful distraction and I get the feeling that's something she could use right now. He watched as his best friend threw together some of their meagre stores to make them as tasty a meal as she could. He noticed that, like he had that morning, she was making the same amount she would have if Ron was still with them. Hermione herself didn't seem to notice until she had a spoonful hanging over a third plate and she froze. Her inaction didn't last long and the rest of the meal was efficiently split over the two plates they would actually be using.

Harry didn't bring it up as Hermione set the plates on the table and only thanked her for the meal. Her quiet nod and red-rimmed, hollow eyes forced him to revise his estimation of how desperately he needed to find a way to get her past her grief. It's too bad that we only have books on the Dark Arts, rather than useful topics like how to deal with emotional girls. Harry's grumbling thought brought with it a feeling that was slowly becoming familiar: the urge to slap himself for overlooking something obvious. I have a book on dealing with girls. I still have the birthday present Ron gave me. I'm not entirely sure if it'll have a chapter on dealing with a crying witch, but it would stupid not to check it.

Harry decided that he would once again have to wait until Hermione was asleep since he doubted that she would be too pleased with the existence of that particular book. Normally Harry would take his chances with a displeased Hermione, but with how volatile her mood had been today he worried that angering her might see her running off like Ron had. Or worse: running off more competently than Ron did. He just left, Hermione would take things with her that she would need to survive. I would be completely and utterly sunk if that happened.

After dinner Harry did the dishes while Hermione settled in to read. Once he joined her Harry found that he had even more trouble focusing on his book than before now that he knew that there was another book in the tent that he desperately wanted to read. The long day took its toll on him though and in the end it was Harry who had to surrender and go to bed first. Hermione looked at him oddly when instead of heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get changed Harry turned on the oven instead.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing?"

"I'm going to heat up some rocks. We can keep them in bed with us like hot water bottles and I thought that might make the nights more bearable." Seeing Hermione with her mouth hanging open like a fish was an uncommon sight at the best of times. Harry couldn't help but feel some slight enjoyment from it. While the rocks were baking Harry went through his bedtime routine. He was wearing several layers of pyjamas when he went to check on the temperature of the stones. It was a little higher than perfect, but that would only mean that the heat would last longer after he went to bed. He took the robes he had worn to Bill and Fleur's wedding and used the sleeves to tie a knot in one end. He levitated about a third of the rocks into his makeshift sack and the rest into the blanket he had used that afternoon. He handed the blanket to Hermione whose curiosity turned into a pleasantly surprised look when she felt the warmth seeping out of the bundle and into her body.

"Don't stay up too late." Harry said with a small smile on his face. He picked up his own bundle and knotted the open end before slipping it under the blanket on his bed. He crawled in and barely had time to notice the difference between this and earlier nights before slumber claimed him.

AN: This week I handed in a complete draft of my senior thesis, which gives me some time until I have to defend it in two weeks. To keep busy I have decided to publish this fic, even if I don't have all of it written yet. I think that it will probably end up around 8 chapters and between 50'000 and 60'000 words. To those of you who are used to me updating every other day when I put out a story: I probably won't be doing that here. That said, I expect I'll still be able to put out at least a chapter per week.

For anyone who's wondering: the cover pic was taken at the Harry Potter Exhibition when it came to town and UrsaMinor and I went to see it. Those are the actual props from the movie (and I am still geeking out about having seen that stuff).

When I read Deathly Hallows I never understood exactly why they went hungry when the UK is dotted with enough supermarkets that there is no way that Voldemort would be able to monitor them all. Buying some non-perishables would be the smart thing to do (and frankly 'smart' may be a bit of an overstatement given how obvious the idea is).

Similarly: I seriously thought that the book Ron gave Harry for his birthday would see some use when Hermione started crying inconsolably and Harry didn't know what to do. Instead it just served to make it look like Ron had less of a grip on social interactions than someone who has been abused for most of his life (and that Ginny was pretty much right to tear strips off him in the sixth book). Oh well, that's what fanfiction's for: to let us take the road that the author didn't.

As always: thanks for reading.