It's funny how a few, single moments can feel like they're years long. As I checked back every two seconds to see the snake slithering closer and closer, I experienced this feeling that I've felt often these past few years but never quite like this; the end was coming. The inevitable was darkening around me though what was most frightening was that it would be Hermione's end too. I first thought of Harry and all of our misadventures that we shared and survived. I was content dying knowing I was doing all I could for my best friend but uneasy that I couldn't succeed. I then thought of my mum, dad, Ginny, Bill, George, Fred.., Charlie, hell even Percy. I thought of Christmases and Egypt and the Burrow. Finally, my thoughts filled with Hermione. Hermione; his best friend who always gave me a hard time, was a down-right know-it-all, pain in the arse, bushy-haired, beautiful, stubborn, complicated, piece of work that I never told how I felt. This was it. Regret inflamed me as Hermione and I stumbled onto an ashy pile of rocks and debris. There was neither time for words nor anything. As we stumbled, I instinctively grabbed her and she fell on me. Seeing the snake lunge at us was not going to be the last thing I ever saw in this life. I instead buried my face into Hermione's hair and cheek while she buried herself into me. And the moment passed but with intensity and acceptance. After we stumbled, we knew what was to come and accepted Death. Thoughts can run like fast trains in moments like these. I couldn't imagine a better way or position to go than with her in my arms. We waited for the end to come together entangled in each other with our aching and damaged bodies. Her hair smelt like ash and dirt and her skin was rough from cuts and bruises. He didn't like her so vulnerable and damaged; so un-Hermione. As we realized that about ten seconds had passed since we fell in acceptance onto the debris of Hogwarts, I slowly opened my eyes. Staring at me was not a snake nor death; it was Neville Longbottom. With the sword of Gryffindor in hand, he looked like a man with strength and bravery. A true Gryffindor. I looked down at Hermione who's eyes were still closed with escaping tears. I brushed my hand gently across her cheek so she would open her eyes. Her chocolate browns stared into me with so many emotions that I couldn't all put together. She looked quickly at Neville then back at me. We made it. At least this time. I took her hand in mine and said nothing. I couldn't speak nor find words and neither could she. We allowed ourselves another minute before rising back into the warzone. That minute felt like several years as I took her all in without words. Though it was silent besides the battles around us, our thoughts were loud enough to comprehend how we felt for each other in that moment. It wasn't luck that carried me these past several years or in this Final Battle; it was her. She was the lifeboat that kept me afloat. This would never change.