If Tomorrow Never Comes

by pugnaciouspenguin

I had to find him. There was a chance I wouldn't survive this war, and if I didn't, he'd never know how much I loved him. He didn't have to love me back; I didn't expect him to. But he had to know. Oneshot.

If Tomorrow Never Comes///O n e s h o t

If I never wake up in the morning,

would she ever doubt the way

I feel about her in my heart?

If tomorrow never comes,

Will she know how much I loved her?

--Garth Brooks

***********************

The air was teeming with tension. Not a single soul crowded in the Great Hall was at ease, unable to even front it. Everyone whispered, cried, talked, or yelled to others, creating an overwhelming buzz in the stone room. People made tearful confessions, afraid they'd never again be granted the chance. Couples desperately kissed, as if they'd never see each other again. Which, in fact, could have been true. Enemies became allies, shaking hands and putting aside whatever petty arguments separated them. Some quietly spent what little time we had left with their friends, or their family, huddled in groups. Apologies were made, secrets came out, and alliances established.

I did none of those. No, no, even I hadn't the patience to read a book before a war began, if that's what you're thinking. I'd already had a cry-fest with Mrs. Weasley, said my goodbyes with Harry and Ron, promising to meet them on the battle field, gotten a promise from Luna that Nugleflarps were watching over me, and a fierce hug with the fierce, youngest Weasley, promises to return alive being extracted from all by all. I was fighting through the crowd, searching. I jumped up and down, attempting to see over the heads of those taller than me. This earned me a few questioning looks, but I didn't care if people thought I looked mad. If they thought I was hysterical, I didn't care. If they thought I was hopping around in ecstasy, I'd question their eligibility to acquire a room in St. Mungos phyciatric ward, but I wouldn't care. I only cared when I hopped on the foot of Draco Malfoy, and then only slightly.

He grabbed my arm, his grip tight. "Granger," he started once I turned to look at him. I braced myself to reply venomously, not in the mood to argue, as I had only a minimal amount of time to find who I was looking for. He shook his head at himself, "No, Hermione," he corrected himself. I found time to be surprised at the use of my first name, and to notice the lack of malice in his mercury gaze. "Sorry, seven years makes it a habit, you know? I didn't stop you to argue, Granger--Hermione--, I stopped you to apologize. I've tormented you since the first day on the train, and I'd like to ask you to do the impossible and forgive me for being an insufferable git who took after his father. I've realized that you don't have to have pureblood to be the greatest witch of your time. You never were too bad, Hermione. So I ask, forgive me?"

There was nothing but seriousness in his cool gaze. I was actually quite touched by his apology. Who knew it takes only thirty seconds to erase seven years of hate?

"Of course, Draco. I'm glad you realized how wrong your father's ways are, and that you really aren't that bad yourself." I even offered a smile, which he returned, the first genuine smile I'd ever seen Draco smile. He nodded. "Thank you." I realized it must have actually been bothering him, festering in the conscience we never thought existed. He turned to walk away, but I called out. "Draco!" He turned back, meeting my gaze steadily. "Make sure you get out of this alive, or I'll kill you myself." He grinned crookedly. "As should you." And then he disappeared into the crowd. I stared, realizing this could be the last time I'd ever see Draco Malfoy walking. Then I started my journey again, weaving in and out of people. I had to find him.

If I didn't find him, I might never get a chance to tell him the truth. There was an absolutely enormous chance I wouldn't survive this war. And if I didn't, he'd never know how much I loved him. He didn't have to love me back; I was the bushy-haired bookworm, best friend of his younger brother- I didn't expect him to. But he did have to know.

So I continued, stopped occasionally by friends, once for another petition of forgiveness by Blaise Zabini, and kept craning my neck for the tall, lean redhead. I finally spotted him, a red spot towering a head over most of the other people.

"Fred!" I yelled, struggling to be heard over the ruckus. But he apparently had excelent hearing, as he spun towards the soung of my voice. He finally spotted me, jumping and waving my arms frantically, like a mad person. He started making his way toward me. As he got closer, I yelled again. "Fred, I have to tell you something! I-"

"Everyone, silence, please! I'd like to say this: Good luck! I look forward to seeing every face in this room again! It'd be a shame not to be able to eat a chocolate frog again, so fight like your life depends on it, because it does. On this grim note, I bring bad news. The doors are opening: the war has begun! We shall not fall victim to these fiends ever again, so, my friends, let us win!" Albus Dumbledore projected his voice to reach every set of ears. Classic Dumbledore speech. I met Fred's apologetic eyes one more time before getting caught once more in the swarm of people.

Everyone wore an expression of grim determination. We would win against Voldemort, or we would fight to out last breath. I tightened my grip on my wand and took a steadying breath. I'd come out of this alive, or die fighting for everything that mattered to me. I'd fight for my family, and my surrogate family. I'd fight for my best friends. I'd fight for the greatest wizards ever to walk this earth: Harry, Dumbledore, Remus, among others. I'd fight for my freedom. I'd fight for my love.

With that, I marched side-by-side with Harry and Ron onto the battlefield.

***********************

"Voldemort has fallen!"

The victory cry echoed around me. I did not join in. Yes, Harry defeated the dark wizard. Harry and Ron were alive. They were the only ones I was certain were, though, and I saw no reason to celebrate yet. Madam Pomfrey hurried past me, her expression stricken. McGonagall caught up with her. The nurse turned to her. "So many, Minerva! There are so many! I've seen them all at least once in my hospital, but I never thought I'd see them d-d-dead! They're so young, Minerva!" her voice caught with dry sobs. Professor grabbed her gently by the arm, her eyes dull. "I know Poppy, I know. But we must save those who have a chance." And she led Madam Pomfrey away.

I walked around staring brokenheartedly down at the dead. So many familiar faces. There was Marcus Belby, the attractive Ravenclaw a year ahead of us. Susan Bones, such a great member of Dumbledore's army. And little Dennis Creevy, Collin's brother. Oh, no, Seamus, poor, poor Seamus. There was a smile on his face even in death. And Katie, who always talked to me about the twins and explained Quidditch to me. Padma, who would never ask me for a quil again.

Crabbe, death eater mask askew, made a mountain on the dusty ground. And there was Avery, the convicted Death Eater, killed by my own hand. Theodore Nott. Yaxley. And so many more.

A flash of white blond hair made my heart skip a beat. "No....Draco?" I whispered brokenly. He was so strong, he couldn't just be beaten. No. He couldn't be dead. A drawling voice seconded my thought.

"No. It's my father. I killed him when he tried to hex you while you were fighting Avery." I spun around to meet the silver eyes of the youngest Malfoy. "Glad you made it, Hermione. Couldn't beat the smartest witch ever lived, could they?"

"No, I suppose not," I murmered. "It's nice to see I don't have to kill you, Draco." He nodded once, then sat by his father, looking deep in thought. I continued, picking up pace as I searched for the face I needed to see alive so bad.

People with tear stained, bloodied faces walked around. Neville was there, holding Luna as she cried. And Molly, her face fierce as she stood over the body of Bellatrix Lestrang, obviously having killed her. And Ginny, there with Charlie. Professor Lupin, helping Tonks. Dean, Hannah Abbot, Mr. Weasley--so many still survived.

A spot of vibrant red on the ground caused my heart to stop completely for a moment. A Weasley. I ran over, tripping on things I'd rather not think about. I fell on my knees next to him. The ponytail, the fang earring....."Bill! Oh my God, Bill!" I whispered desperately. Bill had become an older brother to me. I'd over heard him saying to his mother that he loved me as he did Ginny, and I'd always hold that close to me. I let the tears fall down freely. "Oh, Bill, no..." I sobbed hopelessly over him. Then he moved.

"Mione," he rasped, slowly opening his eyes. A rough hand lifted itself to my hair. I gasped.

"Bill! You're alive!"

"Of course, couldn't leave my two little sisters, could I?" He attempted to joke, but I understood the meaning hidden deep inside his words. I wiped the blood dripping from his mouth, my heart warmed.

"I'm so glad you didn't. How bad are you hurt?" I questioned anxiously. His expression was hesitant.

"Bad," was the reluctant answer. I didn't need to hear anymore. I stood up.

"Mrs. Weasley!" I shouted. "Mrs. Weasley, over here!" She looked up and smiled when she saw me, looking relieved to see me alive. But her expression changed when I yelled,

'Come quick! It's Bill! He's seriously injured!" She'd be able to handle the situation better than I. She hurried over, and after making sure he was in good hands, I continued on my way. With any luck, all the Weasleys would survive the war. I suddenly felt so entirely desperate to find him that I ran. I ran and ran, searching faces. I ran until I reached the castle, or what remained of it. I slumped against a crumbling wall, drained of energy and losing hope.

I felt someone sit by me after a while. I didn't even look up. I hadn't realised tears were falling down my cheeks until a gentle thumb wiped them away. I looked over, only to be greeted by the sight of Fred Weasley, staring at me.

"Fred!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him in a very uncharacteristic way. I was surprised when he returned the hug just as fiercely. "God, Fred, I couldn't find you! I thought you were....I thought you were d-d-" I couldn't make myself say it.

"Ssh, 'Mione, I'm fine. We're all fine. George is over there with Charlie, and I'm here with you. Bill's gonna be okay. The Weasley's have survived. We're like cockroaches- you can't get rid of us. Well, bug spray, doesn't work on us, and we're a bit more handsome, but other than that...." his deep, husky voice calmed me. I laughed softly into his shoulder.

"There we are. That's what I like to hear," he whispered softly. I then remembered why I'd been looking for him. I pulled back, only slightly, as Fred wouldn't let go of me.

"Fred...I....When I was calling you earlier, I needed to tell you...." I started uncertainly, unable to form the right words.

"In the Great hall. I remember," he urged me to continue.

I took a deep breath. "I had wanted to tell you, before the fighting, since I wasn't sure I'd...you know, see you again." He nodded to show he was following me.

"And, well....I know you don't reciprocate my feelings, and I don't expect you to, I understand I'm a bookworm, not to mention your little brother's best friend, but.....I managed to somehow....fall in love with you. I love you , Fred."

I looked down, unable to look him in the face. Rejection hurt worse than I thought it would. I fought against tears. But I was a Hermione Granger: I'd hold my head up high, gritt my teeth, and somehow manage to get through this. His warm hand cupped itself around my cheek, causing my breath to hitch. He forced me to look at him. But I didn't understand: I saw no rejection in his beautiful, sparkling--yes, sparkling, cliche as it may be-- cerulean eyes. He gave me a signature, Weasley twin grin, overshadowing the haunted look that was reflected in every survivor's eyes. "Do you really?" he questioned, his husky voice sending shivers down my spine. I nodded miserably. "Thank God for that." I opened my mouth to question his statement, but he took full advantage of that as he closed the distance, his lips crashing down on mine. The kiss was desperate, the kiss of two survivors wallowing in grief. Our lips moved hungrily in sync, leaving us breathless as we finally broke apart.

"I have waited two years to hear you say that, 'Mione. I love you too. Have since my last year at Hogwarts. Ask George: I was driving him mad."

I smiled, reveling in the earnesty in his bright blue eyes. This time I instigated the kiss, and he made it much gentler, slower, and sweeter. I finally had the man I loved: the reason I fought so hard to live. The war ruined so many lives, caused so much destruction. But it also marked the start of new beginnings.

Fin

***********************

A u t h o r ' s N o t e s

Thanks for reading! Just a little thing that popped into my head. I wrote it in about an hour. I know, Dumbledore's supposedto be dead, and a few other things are off, but for the sake of fiction, let's ignore it, shall we? Hope y'all like it! Lemme know what you think!

Disclaimer: Sadly, none of it's mine, 'cept the pairing and plot, which are hardly mine.

--Paris:]