jacyevans: (harry/hermione // between the lines)
[personal profile] jacyevans
This was originally meant to be a lot more of a threesome fic. Somewhere along the line, it ended up becoming more of something that illustrates the Trio's friendship that could also be read as pre-Harry/Ron/Hermione, should you choose to read between the lines that way.

There are small bits of DH movie canon throughout as well.

knives don't have your back - a harry/ron/hermione ep

Noah's Ark - The Young Heretics
We have so much to answer for
We asked for help to start this war
Can we forgive
The things we've done
Take our things
And move along

The static of the radio sounds like a Filibuster's Firework going off.

Hermione jumps, her tea spilling across the table; she waves her wand before the notes at her elbow smudge. Harry glares from his spot at the tent's edge, but Ron doesn't apologize; he slowly turns the knob until the voice becomes clear enough to make out words, names - those dead and unaccounted for.

Ron isn't sure if he's more or less relieved on the nights he doesn't hear the names of anyone he knows.

Hermione slips off of the chair, tips her head to the side, points out a passage in the book to Harry. They whisper in the dark, their voices carrying across the empty tent.

He feels his anger crawling along his skin, the Horcrux burning with it against his chest even through layers of clothing; every time they pack up the tent, his pack sliding along his shoulder feels like salt rubbing against an open wound.

Ron stares up at the ceiling blowing in the crisp, winter breeze.

He breathes.

And breathes.

And breathes.

So Cold - Ben Cocks
It's so quiet here
And I feel so cold
This house no longer
Feels like home

Hermione doesn't speak; her silence cuts like a knife. Every bitter word Ron said still hangs on the air around them, between them. They tiptoe around each other, guitar strings pulled too tight, like one wrong move will break them.

The music on the radio carries on softly in the background.

It's a small comfort.

Breathe - Superchick
Each breath breathed means we're alive
And life means that we can find
The reasons to keep on getting by
And if reasons we can't find
We'll make up some to get by
'Til breath by breath we'll leave this behind

The radio plays nothing but static; the station faded out hours ago, filling the air with empty airwaves.

Harry reaches down, turns the knob; the tent is too quiet. The silence stifles, threatens to choke him.

He stares at Hermione's back - rising, falling, the small hitch in her breathing - and slides in behind her, arms folding around her waist. She shifts towards the wall, falls back against him, awkward in the tight space.

This bed isn't big enough for both of us, you know, she says, fingers running listlessly along the material of his jumper at his wrist.

I know, he agrees.

Neither of them move.

Fix You - Coldplay
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Hermione rubs her fingers along her forearm, a nonsense, circular pattern, almost spells out the word carved beneath the bandage. Harry stills her movements, gentle grasp around her wrist.

It's going to scar, she whispers; Ron pulls her in tighter, the three of them fitting snug but just right on the small mattress. The air smells of salt water, a cold and bitter ocean breeze.

Doesn't mean anything, he whispers into her hair.

To Build A Home - Cinematic Orchestra
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
Cause I built a home
For you, for me
Until it disappeared
From me, from you
And now it's time to leave and turn to dust

I am about to die.

A feeling almost like relief fills him when the Snitch opens, revealing the small object hidden inside. Harry closes his eyes, turns the Resurrection Stone around once, smooth, cool in his palm.

Twice and Harry takes a short step forward, pauses, the image of Hogwarts, of Hermione and Ron - together, happy, safe - imprinted firmly in his mind.

Three times - he doesn't look back.

Winning - Emily Haines & The Soft Skeleton
I wait and I count to the last breath we take
What we make doesn't make sense
What's a wolf without a pack?
Open your chest and take the heart from it

Hermione stares at the tent.

Her skin feels stretched too thin over her bones, her chest feels too tight, her stomach twisted and aching and she can't catch her breath, feels herself falling, falling, falling -

Harry grasps her hand, squeezes her shoulder tight. I know, he says quietly, then pulls her forward, legs still trembling, his hand a steadying weight. Come on.

The sleeping bag is already large enough for three. Ron sprawls out in the center, limbs akimbo. Harry kicks at his foot and he grunts, opens an eye, then shifts to the furthest edge.

Ron's arms wind around her from behind; he murmurs sleepily, chin resting against her shoulder. Harry wraps his arms around her waist, pulls her to rest against his chest.

Hermione takes a deep, shuddering breath, presses into them and closes her eyes.

She breathes.

And breathes.

They breathe.

Download .zip

other mixes in this series:
interlude; a harry/hermione ep
because i would not stop for death - a harry vs. voldemort ep (coming soon)


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January 2017

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