A/N: FINALLY! I've finally, eventually, thankfully managed to finish the Harmony-fic I've been talking about for ages! YAY!

Now I hope you do enjoy it, as it took me weeks to create it.

I also have to say that pitifully, this world doesn't belong to me, but to the wonderful, inspiring J. K. Rowling.

Please review! :-)

Xx

Let Her Go

The darkness around him faded and was replaced by a far too bright light. He squinted, wanting to see something, and tried to understand what he'd just seen before he'd faded. Finally his vision was not blurry anymore and he could see normally again, after blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes harshly. But he still wasn't sure if he fully understood.

He looked around and suppressed a sob. He was standing in an office room which he'd known just as well as its owner – or so he'd thought. He wasn't sure if he knew him at all anymore. Not after what he had seen.

The owner of the room, however, had long since died – his portrait hung behind a massive wooden chair which reminded of a throne. But now it was empty. Of course Dumbledore would leave at a point like this – he had known it, before he'd lifted his head to look at his old headmaster and friend. He had known he wouldn't be there. That made him angry, and he felt even more betrayed.

When he realized that overthinking didn't help, he tried to remember everything he was hundred percent sure about. He took a deep breath and went through the list in his mind.

His name was Harry Potter. He was seventeen years old. He was a wizard and would now be in his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, if he hadn't run away with his two best friends to destroy the darkest wizard the world had ever seen. His two best friends happened to be Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, who had left them but came back in the end. They were hunting for horcruxes because the only way to destroy said dark wizard was to destroy them, first. Two were left. The snake and – he. Harry Potter had just looked through the memories of the man he hated for most of his life and found out that said man was not only in love with Harry's mother but also the bravest man he ever knew. And Harry himself was the last horcrux. Which meant he had to face Voldemort to get killed so this would stop. He had to die.

Harry let out a small, shaky laugh and sat down on the cold stone stairs in front of Dumbledore's desk. He had to die. He had to die, and Dumbledore had always known that. But he never told him. He let him live, love, make friends only to go die today. Harry was furious.

„YOU ASSHOLE!" he screamed, as loud as possible, grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a picture of Dumbledore and Harry himself in Harry's fourth year, and threw it against the empty portrait. The glass broke and million little pieces fell to the floor, the now freed paper floating down silently. Harry didn't feel better at all.

Only silence responded, and he let his head drop to his hands, starting to sob desperately.

The hallways of the castle were so quiet it felt unreal. Harry tried really hard to not make too many noises, because he was fearing that if he was too loud something bad would happen. Worse than the things that already had happened today, if that was even possible.

People had died. They had lost. The castle was destroyed. Harry's home and the only family he had ever had were both dying – and now Harry was on his way to die, too.

After crying about half an hour Harry had realized that it was the only thing he could do. It was the only way there might still be a chance for the others to fight, to win, to live – they had the chance to live their lives in the future, but Harry would not be a part of it. And he accepted that fact now. He really did.

He had also decided to not say goodbye. The others would know what his plan was, and they would try to stop him, or worse, go with him. Harry neither wanted the first nor the second to happen. Also, goodbyes hurt. And Harry felt like he was emotionally exhausted and just couldn't stomach any more pain.

He turned another corner and jumped back immediately. He had forced himself to not cry out and now tried to calm down his heart, which was beating unhealthily fast. When his breathing was kind of steady again, he peeked around the corner, just enough to catch an eyeful of what was going on. He hoped he would remain unseen. Otherwise he would have to explain a lot of things and, to be honest, he really wasn't in the mood for explanations.

There, in the middle of a staircase, sat his two best friends in the world – Ron and Hermione. Hermione's arm was around Ron's shoulders, he buried his face in her neck and they were holding hands. It was obvious what had happened between them, and it hurt.

Harry had never wanted to, but now he finally had to admit it: Yes, he felt something for Hermione that was definitely more than friendship. He was in love with her, but now it was too late. Too late to tell her. Too late to change his mind. Too late for a chance.

Harry had loved her ever since they first met in the Hogwarts Express. He'd been utterly fascinated by the shy, clever girl with the bushy brown hair and the love for books. And then they grew friends and it didn't make things any easier.

From year to year, Harry watched her grow up and become a beautiful young woman. But he also saw how she felt about Ron and that was exactly why he never told her.

There had been moments when he had let go of the thought that they would never be a couple and treated her like the real princess she was, though. He remembered them all.

When she came back out of the hospital wing in their second year, he had hugged her tight. When they used the timeturner to save Buckbeack and Sirius, he shelted her from the werewolf and when they flew together on the hippogriff he held her as tight as possible. In the Triwizard Tournament during his fourth year he tried to save her in the lake, too. On the Yule Ball he'd been completely stunned of her beautiful appearance and totally jealous of Krum. In their fifth year he helped her to produce her first patronus. In their sixth year he comforted her when Ron kissed Lavender, and during the hunt for horcruxes he danced with her.

These were the times where he had been close to tell her. But now he was, in fact, closer than ever. He just wanted to break them apart, to punch Ron as hard as possible and to kiss Hermione. He wanted these lips for once.

But he couldn't have them, and he knew it. Hermione mumbled something he couldn't hear and patted Ron's back softly. Harry's heart wrenched.

Strangely enough, he suddenly thought of a muggle song Hermione had shown him years ago. They had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room, which had been completely empty, and listened to the radio. And all of a sudden, Hermione had been jumping up and down excitedly, saying something about her favorite song. And she had turned the volume up as much as possible and sung along. She was a horrible singer, but still Harry had loved it. He had loved the excitement and pure joy on her face, the way her eyes shone and how she had beamed happily. It was his favorite memory of her, and Harry would never forget it.

He took another deep breath and then a step back. He remembered the lyrics of the song well, and in his head he sung them to Hermione.

Because you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you've loved her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you're missing home

Only know you've loved when you let her go

And you let her go

And then he turned around and walked away quietly, towards his own death, and he accepted the fact that he would never have her and in that moment, he let her go.