Title: Desperation

Author: verdant quest

Rating: PG

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter; HG/OMC

Summary: SHE was going to leave him, and Harry can't stand it.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter Universe and characters belongs to its creator J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: I'm a little embarrassed. This is probably the most insipid piece of fiction I've ever composed. I don't know what's wrong with my head, but I'm guessing that writing this instead of a report after one in the morning strongly contributed to the irregularity of the work.

'SHE was going to leave him.'

Harry couldn't take it, he had to do something. The walls were closing in around him, and he found it difficult to breathe.

How could he manage without her? SHE was his friend, the one who watched out for him, the one who could keep him from hurting himself. SHE had always been his protector, his advisor, his confidant, the one who knew him best and could read his every emotion like it was written across his forehead.

"What's wrong, Harry?" had been one of her most used expressions throughout their years together at Hogwarts. SHE could always tell when he was upset, and SHE could usually predict why he was feeling that way too.

The wedding invitation had arrived via owl post only minutes earlier. Harry almost hadn't opened the bloody card, but then had noticed the return address was vaguely familiar. Drs. Granger hadn't bothered to address it properly, but they had included the return address because they required notification of how many guests were expected for the fete following the wedding ceremony.

'SHE would leave him.'

Marriage would realign her loyalties. 'Of course it would, you twit,' Harry berated himself, 'marriage is supposed to be about two people coming together to form a family unit beyond their biological family and their social network.'

How could he get along without her there? How could he live without her? SHE was the most important person in his world.

Desperately he tried to picture what life might be like. He would go through the motions, naturally. Get up, go to work, come home, feed Hedwig, shower and go to bed to repeat the cycle in the morning. Every couple of months he would get an owl from her catching him up on her life and asking after his or perhaps asking him to tea. He would watch as SHE became more and more immersed in the life SHE and her husband had created, and one day SHE would ask him to a family supper and announce over coffee that they were expecting a child.

And then the baby would dominate her life. 'As it ought, of course.' Harry harbored no ill will toward the fictitious child, yet he knew it would be the death toll of his friendship. SHE would keep in contact, send Christmas and birthday well wishes and the occasional present, but that would be it.

Harry's life would be effectively empty. He would remain alone. Harry somehow recognized the impossibility of forming new friendships, let alone a romantic bond with anyone. SHE had been his only guide through the hazardous pathways of relationships, and without her presence he would be hopelessly lost.

Standing abruptly, Harry dashed for the fireplace mantle where he kept a small jar of floo powder. He grabbed an unnecessarily large handful and tossed it on the flames.

"Number 3, Hutchings Road, Lower Winbough." Harry called out distinctly as he strode into the fire.

The world spun madly and then it stopped abruptly, and Harry found himself staring into a stiff-looking formal parlor.

He stepped through, and called out to alert the house of his presence. There was no answering yell, so Harry walked to the door and was about to turn the knob and try to hunt someone down, when it opened seemingly on its own.

SHE stood in front of him then. SHE looked oddly relieved to see him.

"Oh, Harry. Thank goodness. I was worried, I thought maybe you had gone out of town, and hadn't gotten your invitation yet. I kept expecting you to stop in, and when you hadn't…" SHE trailed off, having made her point, and in reaction to some emotion SHE could see in Harry's expression.

"What's wrong, Harry?" SHE demanded of him concernedly.

Harry felt frozen. On the one hand, SHE had saved him the trouble of leading into the conversation he had come here to have with her, and on the other hand was the realization that what he had to say was completely inappropriate, and could very well damage any chance of remaining friends with her after SHE inevitably married what's-his-name.

"You mustn't do it," Harry implored her at long last, blurting it out, without proper consideration for his turn of phrase.

SHE paused and then when he fully expected her to ask the obvious question, "I mustn't do what, Harry?" SHE didn't do so, and instead gave him troubled eyes.

"Please, don't leave me."

SHE gaped at him for an instant, but then her eyes filled up with tears and SHE gave a dry sob.

"Harry, why are you doing this to me now? Why did you have to wait so long?"

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing, had SHE wanted him to tell her before? SHE had always seemed too independent, had never seemed to need him in the same way he needed her.

"I never wanted to interfere in your life. You were content, and I didn't know you wanted anything other than what we had together. I thought that as long as we were going along the way we were that that was enough. I couldn't bring myself to ruin it, by begging for more. Then I found out that you were going to leave me, and I couldn't not speak, not if it meant not having you in my life at all. I can't live without something from you, whatever it is you choose to give. Don't leave me, Hermione. I can't not have at least a part of you. I'm not strong enough for that."

SHE was crying in earnest now.

"Oh, Harry. I didn't want to do it, but I was afraid that if I let this opportunity slip past me that there wouldn't be another chance for me. I was frightened that you would move on, get married someday, and I would be alone, looking in at your life through the glass. I couldn't stand that. I thought you didn't want me. I thought I was just your friend."

Harry grabbed her then, and pulled her against his chest, desperate to hold on to both what SHE was saying and to the physical reassurance that touch offered. He comforted her with his body, and bussed her temple, holding her as close as he could.

"I wanted you. So badly, that I didn't dare let myself show any of that need. I'm sorry for the pretense, but I just couldn't live with knowing for certain that you didn't want me. I was protecting my heart. Please, give us a shot, Hermione. Please."

"I'll call off the wedding. I don't want to hurt him, but my heart was never in it. I just thought that we would deal well together. It wasn't fair, but I didn't think I'd ever have a chance at love. I love you, Harry."

Harry brought her chin up so he could meet her gaze and whispered one heartfelt word against her lips. "Yes."

The End.