A/N: Mild Angst. Reviews and teary eyes are most appreciated!

Harry Potter's green eyes have never gleamed so brightly, seeking out the obvious yet unrealistic truth that was laying, sprawled and spread-eagled, in all it's profound glory, at his feet. But it was all true: she had given up eight hard years of friendship for him. After their first and sixth year at Hogwarts of promising her devotion, of repeatedly telling him that he would always find her at his side, she had left him. Worst of all, she left him when the moment of final and absolute revenge was right next door, past this certain final obstacle. But that was all this was about, wasn't it? Revenge. When he kills Voldemort, everything, every moment, every memory will patch up, won't it? And the murderer of Ronald Bilius Weasley was laying there, just there, unconcious; It took Harry great amounts of self control not to give him the Avada and swipe Hermione away. He'll convince her that he was never worth her heart.

The End was just so bloody near, yet, cooperation was lacking. And Harry Potter was tired of all the pain, of all the gore, of all the casualties; Harry so dearly wanted this to all end. But peace was always a hard hope to request.

"Just do it" he had told her moments ago. Begging found its' way into his voice.

And she hadn't obeyed, after wetting her lips with apologies, she spoke in such a broken voice.

Her lips trembled, eyes wide but swollen from preventing tears, she spoke two words that smote the famous Harry Potter.

"I can't."

Hermione Granger had never been one to acknowledge failure, she was more known to be wrapped in her dignity and intellect, her words shocked Harry, and his green eyes gleamed in the flickering candle light of the dungeons.

You see, having no family, Harry was always the victim of love. When loving someone, when guaranteeing that he will surrender his life if it helped prevent death to gather his loved ones, Harry would do it. And it struck him back on his arse with Hermione's words.

I can't

They reverberated in Harry's head, and he was lost, drowning in the smithereens of friendship.
And after the practice he was forced to receive after Ronald's death, Harry Potter put up the bricks that blocked out emotion.

"He can't love you."

Hermione's brown crumpled eyes took in the sight of Harry reaching for his wand.

"You know that if you don't do it, that if you take his side, I will kill you both."

Harry Potter was just so cold. Stone was all he was now, he lost everything, everyone, but not Hermione. No, he wouldn't let him take away his Hermione, he'd kill her before he ever managed to steal her away. Harry never had the chance to look and point out the crazy frenzy running wild through his brain.

Hermione shook her head, the salty drops flinging out on all sides from the abrupt motions.

"We were supposed to stick together. Why, Hermione, WHY?"

Harry's eyes grew wet, his breath erratic, his pulse quickening. And for once, the pain from his scar reached it's point, hurting till Harry's forehead went numb. Sir Harry Potter reached his breaking point.

The unconcious figure that had received multiple Cruciatus, opened its' eyes, gathering the horrific sight of betrayal.

That was all because of him.

Because of Draco Malfoy, Hermione had done the one thing she swore not to do. Hurting Harry Potter hurt herself more than anyone could imagine, and she wished to be at Harry's side, to be comforted by his soothing strokes on her back.

And she so wanted to return to being irresistibly blinded by her love for Draco.

But Hermione Granger knew she had gone past the line of logic: she was stripped from reason.

She unknowingly smiled at memories, her happy moments with both men replayed behind her closed eyes. Working together with Harry, always pillowed by the cushion of friendship, trust and loyalty. The love, lust, and agony of her secret relations with Draco, how she had fought with him, how she demanded an answer to why he had been responsible for Ron. The memories of him asking her to run away with him, the promises that he would protect and devote himself to her.

"Hermione, we can get away. Father's dead and Voldemort's not so far behind him. What's stopping you? Let's start all over, I want to wake up every morning without thinking new ways to make Voldemort believe that I still serve him. I want so much---"

Hermione Granger was crying then,

"I can't leave Harry without conclusion. I just can't."

"Even if it's worth your life to go back? His obsession isn't over friendship and trust and loyalty", Draco spat, "His entire bloody devotion is over killing Voldemort. It's his nostalgic thoughts over what he could have had. The past. Hermione, I want our future."

Draco scoffed, his nose wrinkled in disgust. He had offered her an escape, he had told her what he wanted, and now all she was going to do was go back on her knees to Harry fucking Potter.

"I need him to know. After that, I'll go with you, Draco."

Those moments would be lost with her. She wouldn't ever edit and add on to the beauty of life, to her Palace of Memories.

Her eyes reached Draco's, and she gave him a nod. It took him a second to comprehend what was going to happen, but it was moments too late as Draco reached for his wand.

Hermione fell, Harry's wand arm raised, his eyes and mind catching up with what he had done. And he stood there, feet bound to the floor by confusion and unbelief.

Despite previous torture, Draco Malfoy still had the strength.

He crawled desperately to Hermione's side, weeping, his hot tears falling, splashed, across her hair.

Harry Potter watched with guilt, agony, love, and hatred planted in his eyes.

Hermione called for Harry in a quiet voice, empty of emotion.
Harry, has He ever forgived Judas?

And through his tears, Harry managed last words, and Draco, who was clutching onto Hermione's body, his lips placing kisses over her cold face, fell to the floor.

Dead.