DISCLAIMER: not mine.
Harry raised his head and watched the scene in front of him. He was leaning against a tree and could see the grassfield and the lake of Hogwarts. Harry's face was wet with tears. Tears of pain, tears of sorrow, and maybe tears of happiness. But for every tear of happiness, there fell twenty other tears. Because of this.
The grassfield was covered with dead bodies.
On the other side of the field, next to the entrance of the castle, he saw some people collecting the bodies. The only survivors of the Final Duel. From where he stood, he saw Ron, Neville, Snape, Hagrid, some of the giants that had come to join them, some Ravenclaws, two Hufflepuffs. Where was Hermione? He knew she wasn't dead, he had seen her. When was that? Right after... He didn't want to think of that. From the corner of his eye, he saw it. The black robes, with on top of it, a wand. No body in the clothes. The body of Lord Voldemort had just...melted after Harry had killed him.
"Don't think of it." Harry whispered to himself. "Something else. Where's Hermione?"
He had seen her, bending over some body. Body, body, body, wich one? He closed his eyes and pictured it. A Slytherin robe, silver ring, blond hair. Harry's eyes snapped open. Draco Malfoy. Oh Merlin. "Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry." He whispered.
He wiped the tears out of his eyes and crossed the grassfield, in search for Ron. He remembred the night he once had with Hermione. Just a winter night.
He and Hermione had been the only ones left in the common room. Outside, it was snowing, but Hermione sat in the couch next to the fire, with a blanket wrapped around her. Harry had went to sit next to her, and they had talked. All night. While the house elves were cleaning the room and feeding some wood to the fire, Hermione and Harry had talked. They told eachother everything. Harry told her about his past with the Dursleys, his dissapeared feelings for Cho, his grief for Sirius, his fear to die. Hermione listened, and then she talked. About how she was always called a bookworm, how she felt that Ron wanted her as his girlfriend but that she saw him as her brother, and how she always expressed herself in songs. 'In songs, I can say everything and express just the right feelings.' She had said. And then it had come out. Since October, she had a relation with Malfoy. First, Harry had been shocked, but he had accepted it. As long as Hermione was happy, it was okay. The months afterwards, he had looked closer, and he had seen that Malfoy wouldn't hurt her. That night had been a very close night.
Since then, Harry and Hermione had been very close friends. They told eachother everything that they couldn't tell Ron or someone else. Hermione had told Harry of the plans she was making with Draco. After graduation, they would pack their stuff and emigrate to South France, somewhere in the Provence. There, they would marry and live happily together. Harry knew that she was happy with Draco. He could see it in her eyes.
And now, he had seen her, crying over her lover's dead body.
-
He had reached Ron. They stared at eachother. Ron broke the silence.
"How are you?"
"Quite alright. I wanna ask you something. Did you find Malfoy's body?"
Suddenly, Ron looked happy.
"No, not yet, but I'm sure he's dead."
"Why?" Harry asked scared.
"Hermione killed him! I saw her, standing in front of him, and I yelled 'Come on, Hermione, kill him! Think of what he has done to us!'. She hestitated, but she did it." Ron said, really proud of himself.
Harry was shocked. He opened and closed his mouth, but couldn't speak. He was saved by Neville.
"Oi, Ron! Come over here for a minute, will you?" He cried from a distance.
"Good luck, man." Ron said, before turning around and running at Neville.
Harry just stood there, still shocked. "Ron, what have you done?" He whispered.
-
He went of to look for Hermione. He knew where to look. One of their secrets that Hermione had told him, their place. On the other side of the lake, hidden by the Forest, where you could only come when you would fly. Except that there was a hidden way inside the Hogwarts castle. Harry hurried inside, and when he was sure that no one followed him, he entered the the hidden corridor.
-
The door closed with a loud 'crack'.
Hermione didn't look up. Harry was the only one who knew about the hidden way, and he had seen her before she had left. One and one is two, and in this case, two was: Harry had followed her. It was alright. Since that winter night, they knew eachother better than anybody else. He even knew things that she couldn't tell Draco.
Draco...
He was now laying in front of her, dead. All her dreams, dead. All her plans for the future, dead. But the memories were so alive...
Review please. Flames accepted.