For Her
AN- a little Hermione/Harry pairing. Short little one-shot songfic. I love this song and it reminded my of HP instantly. I changed the name of the girl (Mary to Hermione) and the location mentioned (New York to London) in the song just to make it a little more relevant. Enjoy!!
Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, the characters in it, Yellowcard, the song "Gifts and Curses" on which this fic is based, or anything else in this story except the plot. I didn't ask for permission to use the lyrics to above song, but hope that it's acceptable.
He slumped by the side of the road, too tired to carry on. He was on his own now- he had watched Lupin, Tonks, Snape, even Dumbledore die at the hands of the enemy he longed to defeat. He followed Voldermort through snow and rain, mountains and valleys, deserts and oceans. At his hands was the blood of many Death Eaters, and it plauged his concious. Yet every time he sent the killing curse toward them, he saw only one face.
Hermione belongs to the words of a song.
I try to be strong for her, try not to be wrong for her.
But she will not wait for me anymore, anymore.
Why did I say all those things before I was sure?
He remembered the day he left as if it were yesterday. Ron was in St. Mungo's after being attacked by Draco in the hallway. Most all of the DA was ignorant, oblivious to the danger he was about to face. They didn't know he was leaving. He knew that if he told them, they would follow.
She was standing behind him. She had watched him, followed him down to the lake. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to have to say this one goodbye. He couldn't.
"Harry."
It was just his name. Yet in it was something more, an uncontrollable feeling. She needed to know. But she couldn't. He didn't speak.
"I could come with you."
No, she couldn't. He would rather die than put her life on the line. He would rather die a thousand painful deaths, have his bones broken one by one and his heart wrenched out than see her go through pain.
"I love you."
He stopped. His heart, his head, his lungs. Every bodily function, every natural impulse. Everything was halted by the words she said. He could hear her crying now. Every tear that fell was like a bullet through his heart.
"Do you love me, Harry?"
Gods, how he wished he could say it. He wished he could tell her that every time he saw her, his heart did little flips and he couldn't think of anything normal to say. He wished he could say how beautiful he though she was, even that he thought it was cute she spent a fourth of her waking hours in the library. But he couldn't say any of that. He knew that if he turned around, he wouldn't have the strength to say what he had to. He didn't look at her.
(She is the one...) but I have a purpose.
(She is the one...) but I have to fight this.
(She is the one...) the villian I can't knock down.
"No."
And now he lay, weary beyond a physical level. But they were coming. He could feel it. They were closer than he thought. He didn't know if he cared anymore. Maybe to die would be better. Then he could stop seeing those brown eyes every time he looked around. Maybe he would stop hearing her last words to him over and over, like a nightmare record that kept stopping and repeating it's last tune. But he had to carry on. For her.
I see your face with every punch I take.
And every bone I break, it's all for you.
And my worst pains are words I cannot say.
Still I will always fight on for you.
Every life he took, every scar he had. All were for her. Every time he looked into the eyes of a masked Death Eater, he saw her that night at the lake. Every scream, every still body, they verified that she was still safe. Still living. He could only pray that she would stop loving him, because he knew that if she said those words again he wouldn't resist. He got up, and taking his old broomstick, he soared off into the air above the outskirts of London.
Hermione's alive in the bright London sky.
The city lights shine for her.
Above them I cried for her.
Everything's small on the ground below, down below.
If I should fall then where would I go, would she know?
He looked down, almost willing himself to fall and fall... to let go would be so easy. But every time his hand left the broom, he heard her voice. Telling him to do his charms essay, study for potions, get some rest before the exams. All of it reminded him of the way she kept telling him to keep going, to keep living. Suddenly, he was not alone. They had found him. He sped to the ground, as did they. He turned around, yelling the killing curse at the first mask he saw. The person dropped, lifeless. With each curse he hurled, he hated that person. Hated them for putting her in danger, for tearing them apart. For not letting them be together. For not letting him love her.
(She is the one....) all that I wanted.
(She is the one...) and I will be haunted.
(She is the one...) this gift is my curse for now.
Suddenly, they were gone. All but one. The one without the mask. It was only the two of them now, and one must die. In the black, all Harry could see were his cold, red eyes. He hated this man. Voldermort was the reason Harry's life had been a living hell since 4th year. And he was the reason that he couldn't be with Hermione. If only he died... life could change.
Harry dodged every curse sent, but so did Voldermort. The half-man taunted, reminding Harry of his dead parents, dead godfather, dead classmates. His rage built with every second. And as they dealt the final blows, Harry didn't hear his parents, or Cedric, or his godfather. He heard her.
"Now."
He screamed.
I see your face with every punch I take.
And every bone I break, it's all for you.
And my worst pains are words I cannot say
Still I will always fight on for you.
Fight on for you...
"AVADA KEVADA!"
With not a moment to spare, Voldermort dropped. Dead. Lifeless.
He saw only her. He imagined what he would say, that day back at the Great Hall. Term would be ending soon.
"Hermione, I changed my mind. The answer to your question- it's yes."