“Dance with me,” Harry said, holding out his hand to her. The Potterwatch broadcast had just ended, and the dial automatically turned to the next open station.
Hermione sighed. She had no energy to get up, let alone dance. Harry must have sensed her reluctance, and he bent down and wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her to her feet.
“You don’t have to do much. Just hold onto me,” Harry told her, pulling her close, tucking her head underneath his chin.
Harry hummed along to the music, pressing soothing circles into her back. He even pressed a kiss against the top of her head. She closed her eyes and began to sway with him, letting all the stress and anxiety of the last few days melt away.
After several moments, she pulled away and grabbed Harry’s hands. She began to really dance — swaying her hips and moving her feet across the small space of the tent. Harry was feeling bold and spun her around before dipping her to the floor. By the end, she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face, a matching smile on Harry’s face.
“Thank you,” Hermione whispered. “I needed that.”
Harry nodded and pulled her close again, running a hand through her hair.
She looked up at him, and he leaned his forehead on hers. Reality was sinking back into her bones, but she felt a little less weak than she had minutes before. They had a long journey ahead of them that wouldn’t be void of trials and tribulations. But maybe with a dance each evening, hope would shine through.