The Tent.


Hermione was more than tired. She was emotionally and physically exhausted. Since Ron had deserted them the day before, she had not slept. She had cried softly into her pillow most of the previous night. When dawn came she had climbed out of bed feeling angry. With herself for feeling this way, with Ron for leaving, with the whole rotten situation. She had tried to put Ron out of her mind during the day, and as evening fell she realised that she had been successful. It didn’t improve her mood. She was depressed. 

Harry was little better. Equally pissed off with Ron, he had listened to Hermione’s muffled crying for a long time before finally drifting into a troubled sleep. His attempts to converse with Hermione during the day had met with little success. He watched her now, opening the last cans of Muggle soup. They would have to ‘shop’ tomorrow. They were eating late today, they would allow half an hour for digestion and then turn in. On the radio was a music programme that Ron had designated ‘easy listening’. They ate in virtual silence and, having cleared up they sat on their respective beds. Harry had left the locket hanging on his bedpost. He looked across the tent, taking in the sadness on his dearest friends’ face.

On an impulse he went to stand in front of her. He took her hands and she stood. Harry backed into the centre of the room. He started to sway to the music, encouraging her, without words to do likewise. Although she swayed with him, her face remained glum. Harry raised one of her arms and she pirouetted under his arm. Gradually her mouth began to stretch into a small smile. After a few more minutes they were whirling and laughing. The music stopped and hugged each other. Her smile faded to sadness again as they faced each other.

“Goodnight Hermione.” 

She took his hands again and she spoke hesitatingly, “Harry, would you mind… I mean… could I… can I sleep with you? Just sleep, I mean. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I want to be held, I want to feel secure. Could I?”

“If you really want to Hermione, of course you can. Er… you don’t snore do you?” she grinned as she slapped his arm. She went to the bathroom and returned five minutes later having brushed her teeth and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Harry followed suit. They climbed into bed and lay facing each other, not quite knowing what to do with their arms. Harry slid an arm between Hermione’s neck and the pillow and she rested her head in the crook of his elbow. He put his other hand tentatively on her waist. “If Ron were here, he’d go mental.” He observed.

“If he were here we wouldn’t be doing this.” She whispered.

“I never imagined that the first time I slept with a girl, it would be with you, Hermione.”

“Why do I feel hurt and insulted, Harry? You obviously don’t fancy me.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Hermione. It’s just that… well you were always…”

“Please don’t say ‘one of the boys’.”

“I wasn’t going to, honest. Hermione, don’t take this wrong but I… I love you…”

“If you say ‘like a sister’ I will be really pissed off, Harry.”

“I think we should go to sleep now, before I say something that will get me killed.”

Hermione moved her head into his shoulder, “Okay, Harry.” He moved his head, intending to kiss just the tip of her nose. She moved her head at the same moment and he missed. Their lips met. They were each waiting for the other one to pull away but neither of them did. After what seemed to be an eternity, they moved again at the same time. Her hand slid behind his head and pulled; and his hand from the side of her waist to her back, he pulled too. They were running on automatic now. The time, the place, the circumstances were, all forgotten.

Their hips were grinding together, their tongues duelling in their mouths. Harry broke the kiss, “We should stop, Hermione.”

“Do you want to stop, Harry, because God knows I don’t? Please Harry, don’t stop, make love to me. I want you.”

“Hermione, what about…” her lips crushed his. She rolled on to her back and pulled him on top. She pulled her shirt up as far as she could and started to remove her shorts. Harry helped her and took off his own shorts. She was moist, open and he entered her easily. Their movements became frantic. Hermione had her orgasm moments before Harry ejaculated. He rolled off and lay beside her.

“Harry, can I borrow your wand please? There’s something I need to do.” He got his wand from the floor by the bed. She pointed it at her abdomen and muttered the Post-Coital Contraception Charm. They lay side-by-side holding hands.

“It goes without saying, Hermione, that we aren’t going to let Ron know what just happened.” Before she could reply, a voice said,

“You’re too late, he already knows!” the couple in the bed bolted upright. Harry was the first to find his voice.

“Oh shit Ron, I’m so sorry. It just happened I’m so sor…” Ron raised his left arm and the 9mm Glock in his hand spat fire. The back of Harry’s head blew off onto the pillow and the wall of the tent behind him. Hermione screamed. 

“Shut up, you bitch. You couldn’t wait for me to leave, so you could shag him, could you?”

“Ron, it wasn’t like that. I was lonely; I just wanted to be comforted.”

“Let me comfort you then. Goodbye Hermione.” The Glock coughed again. Ron surveyed the scene.

He raised his left sleeve to the elbow and made to press the skull and snake imprinted there. He hesitated. Am I deep in the dark and smelly now, he thought. Bellatrix Lestrange was obsessed with killing Hermione, ‘the filthy mudblood’. She will skin me, thought Ron. Even worse, he had killed Harry Potter. The Dark Lord would not forgive, of that he was certain. If he pressed the mark he had a good idea of what Nagini’s next meal would be. Me! Probably alive. “Oh shit.” Was the last thing he said before putting the barrel of the Glock in his mouth.


45 years later, the Protection spells finally wore off. A muggle family, out for a stroll in the woods, noticed a tent in an area where no camping was allowed. They went into the tent to complain. The police were at a loss to explain the sudden appearance of a tent containing three skeletons. All three of which appeared to have been shot in the head.

The Wizarding world and Ginny Weasley in particular, however, finally knew what had happened to the Golden Trio. Ginny knew the fate of her brother, the love of her life and her best and dearest friend.