Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any stories relating to him, his friends & other co-characters, and his wizarding ways... if I were J.K. Rowling, I would be laughing my way to the bank right now, 'cause I'd be freakin' rich $.$ ... and I don't own 'Before Three' by The Cure, because I am not Robert Smith, and therefore not sexy in my European pants... I do however own the computer I type this on, and the lint in my pocket... feel free to sue me for these things, 'cause that's surely all you'll be likely to get from me, and both are relatively useless... Enjoy the story! It's very angsty, and those with weak constitutions might not like it, although I didn't go into great detail...
When the End Comes, I'll See Our Happiest Day and Night
The happiest day I ever knew
In a sea of gold down next to you
So blurred and tired under summer sun
You whispered dreams of a world to come...
We were so in love.
In this sea of gold so young and tired
Under summer sun hard by your side
Whispering dreams down next to you...
We were so in love.
Hermione lay motionless under the bright sunlight, in the midst of a field of yellow daisies and crimson blood. Her eyes were blank, unfeeling, unseeing, dead.
Harry stumbled forward alone surrounded by corpses from both sides of the great battle. Death and the stench of coppery blood was thick in the air, he could taste it on his lips and dry tongue. Suddenly, he spotted her.
"Hermione."
No reply came to him, other than moans of the dying around him. Farther off, he spotted Draco Malfoy, his neck broken, his eyes glassy. He had a spear sticking through his temple, pinning him to the ground. His stomach was slit open, his entrails, black and rotting, lying around him. Professor Albus Dumbledore was nothing more than a heap of rubble, turned to solid stone, broken and beaten by Voldemort. Ron was long dead, but still, there was...
"Hermione," he said louder, dropping down next to her as he reached her. "Hermione, are you-?"
She had been pierced through the heart and struck a devastating blow to her head. Harry wondered vaguely if she had died instantly, and hoped she had, so that she wouldn't have died in too much pain.
His words were unspoken, tears coursed down his rough and haggard face. He knew, without ever asking. His lover, his comrade, his friend, his wife of ten years was dead before him. Her stomach was swollen with their unborn child, surely dead by now as well.
He wept and thought back, back to a day, what seemed like a life time ago...
The happiest day
Yeah the happiest day I knew.
But summer sun and sea of gold,
This perfect day oh so long ago,
Whispering dreams so young and tired,
We have to keep this day alive.
Whispering dreams so young and tired,
It's hard to hold this day inside.
Their first kiss, their first hug, the first time they held hands... Their wedding, finding out that they were both expectant parents... the promises they made floated about Harry. They would have named the baby boy Ron, after their dearest dead friend.
His crying grew harder, he shook with sobs that wrenched his body. Now he had no one, no one at all. Voldemort was dead, but now there was no one to share this with. Everyone he knew at one time or other- dead. And he wept not for himself, or them, but for the loss of his one innocent wife, their one innocent child...
And the happiest night I ever had
Up next to you on silver sand
So scared and high under winter moon
You whispered dreams that would all come true...
We were so in love.
Up next to you so fucked and high
Under winter moon it made me cry.
Whispering dreams on silver sand...
we were so in love.
Harry knew, all along he knew, that this would happen. Even with the premonition of his birth that he had discovered at fifteen, with Voldemort dead, he still couldn't go on living. Without Hermione, nothing was worth anything any more; life itself had lost all meaning. Slowly, he reached for the dagger at his side.
The happiest night,
Yeah the happiest night I had.
But winter moon and silver sand,
This perfect night in another land,
Whispering dreams so scared and high,
We have to keep this night alive.
Whispered dreams so fucked and high,
It's hard to hold this night inside.
He held the dagger firmly to his wrists, one at a time, slitting so deeply, he felt metal scrape bone. Then he laid the dagger down and lay himself down next to Hermione Potter. His arm draped softly over her bulging middle. He kissed her cold lips once, and felt himself slide away into the warmth of her arms, waiting to hold him forever.
He never felt so happy, with his family, his mother and father, and dearest friends surrounding him to be with him, to help him into happiness...
And there was Hermione, the one thing he loved, the one thing that held all meaning for him. She held out their child, and Harry remembered their last promise of love...
Yeah and every summer's sun I want again,
And every winter's moon I want the same,
My happiest day and my happiest night
Always next to you...
And held deep inside,
Keeps me alive...
The end... bit Angsty, but I'm in that mood right now. Hope you like it somewhat. Review, please!