Disclaimer: I do not own HP. A/N: I am posting this only a couple of hours after I posted the last installment of the Malfoy series. Crazy, aren't I? Well, I just felt like getting the plot out of my head. It's just drabble but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)
I have always envisioned myself as more of a lover than a fighter. I am, in fact, a lover of many things. I love knowledge and bravery and loyalty and strength. I love books with their crisp pages and fine print. I love summers and walks in the beach and the feeling of waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs. I love my family and my friends and everything that they stand for. Yes, there are many, many things that I love – too many to count but enough to assure that I belong on the 'lover' side of things.
Yet here I am, on this dark dreary day, a weak coward standing above the bloodied body of one of my very best friends, wondering where in the world all that love had gone.
***
"Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?"
"Yes, yes I am," I tell him.
"You are not made for War – for this. You deserve better," he insists.
"I don't care. I am standing by you. You need me." I jut my chin out defiantly, challenging him to tell me otherwise. Looking into his eyes, I can see the fear – fear for me and whatever I will be facing on the battlefield. But somewhere within their depths, I also see a spark of hope, a tinge of happiness that I at least would not be leaving him.
Gingerly, he takes my hand in his and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. "Thank you."
***
It was not supposed to happen – or end – this way. I had many dreams, many plans for the rest of my life. Entering Hogwarts was only the first in the many steps I intended to take en route to success. Never did I dream that I would become the best friend of the Wizarding world's greatest hero, his most trusted comrade and right hand woman. Nor did I imagine that I would be wielding a wand in battle at seventeen and taking away another person's life without as much as a second thought.
I feel I was destined for greater things, nothing as ragged and brutal as committing killing after killing. But I suppose fate has a way of playing tricks with our eyes, our minds and our hearts. Life is never what we expect it to be.
***
"It's time," he says softly.
"I am ready," I reply with false bravado.
"I know you are scared," he tells me. I just clutch his hand tighter in reply. "But I will be right here for you. I promise. You just have to trust me."
"I trust you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
Up ahead, I see slivers of light coming from what I assume to be a door. Behind it awaits my destiny, my fate. I am afraid – truly, I am. But I've gone too far to turn back now. I owe it to the man beside me not to run away.
***
Harry Potter was a wonderful boy – no, man. He certainly deserved a death better than this, if he deserved death at all. Their hope lied in him – their salvation. But now he lies here, broken and unmoving, the scar on his forehead prominent against his now pale skin. The boy who lived at the hands of the Wizarding world's Dark Lord was now dead at the hands of a mere Muggleborn witch.
For a moment, tears threaten to spill over my eyes and I try to think very hard why and how I could have done such a thing.
Then I look up and see in the distance, among the littered bodies of our enemies and comrades, the moving figure of a tall cloaked man. He brings the hood of the cloak down and the moonlight appears to be reflected in the color of his hair. Wand in hand, he makes his way towards me and I am suddenly reminded why.
Yes, I, Hermione Granger, am a lover not a fighter. I only decided to fight because of the other.
-End
A/N: Review? :)