A/N: I haven't written a fanfic in quite a while & I admit I've missed writing a lot but hopefully I'll have more time once school's out which won't be in like another 3 weeks :( Anyways, this is just a random one shot as I just decided to write the first thing that popped into my mind. I might add a second part, I'm not sure so I guess we'll just see:):)

If Only We Had A Second Chance

Why did this have to happen? What did he do to deserve this?

What did I do?

It seemed so vague and bleak, as if time had stopped and everything on Earth was moving in slow motion. This feeling was especially expressed in a dimly-lit room where a slender form was huddled on a bed, her sobbing the only audible sound. Her eyes were red and swollen, and fresh tears retraced the path older ones had crossed earlier. It seemed as if they would never stop running down her pink cheeks, eventually leaking onto her lap. Nor did it feel like her heart would ever be complete again.

Oh, what she wouldn't do to just wake up from this terrible and cruel nightmare and feel his lips on her forehead, making a path down her face until they met her own lips. But just thinking about him made her sob even harder and punch both her fists against her pillow. The damned thing symbolized fate, and how it callously ended the young life of a boy, a boy who was courageous and noble and risked everything to rid the world of evil. Though the Dark Lord had been defeated and his followers captured, there was hardly anything to celebrate about. Not when an innocent life had been lost in the fray, too. The only boy who had ever truly loved her, gone.

Thinking about their past relationship hurt her too much, though, not only because she would never see him again, but because along with the love and desire brought hurt and betrayal. She had lost her best friend's trust and friendship. Harry had been hurt, and so was she. How could she have done something so terrible and mean to the person she used to talk to about everything, things she could never tell her guy friends. It took only a few more-than-friendly feelings toward one of those friends to cause her whole world to collapse. Now, she felt as if she had absolutely no one, that no one would care for someone as horrible as she was.

Though during the funeral, the two former friends had exchanged a few words but it was nothing like how things used to be. They both sobbed during the service, but they didn't hug each other or anything that had to do with skin-to-skin contact. She knew Ginny would never completely forgive her and that things would never be the same again, and she felt she deserved everything. She deserved to suffer like this, to just sit here in her own dark world and drown in her sorrow and guilt. Something kept gnawing at her insides, threatening to rip out of her any moment. She just couldn't help thinking that she was to blame for his death, that if she hadn't been such a whore and hadn't spent that night with him, none of this would've happened. He would've still had his girlfriend and wouldn't have had to deal with that hurt and sadness. And maybe that terrible weight he had been carrying wouldn't have caused him to take such a risk and fight Lord Voldemort by himself, causing his own demise. Many people would say that at least he didn't die in vain, that he accomplished what he had set out to do in the beginning. But she couldn't care less if Voldemort had still been living, as long as he was still here.

Now the only things she had of him were a few photographs, presents he had given her for her birthdays, including a beautiful golden locket that had never been taken off her neck, and--

She held the folded scrap of paper in trembling hands, simple on the outside but causing more grief and pain on the inside. Her unsteady fingers slowly unfolded the paper, and she read the note, despite the fact that the words made the hurt unbearable.

Hermione,

I don't think I can take this anymore. I had to write this letter, as I'm unable to directly tell you all of this otherwise. It's like I don't even know what I want anymore. Everything seemed so much more simple back then, you know? I love Ginny, I really do and I want her back so badly, yet at the same time I just can't stop thinking about you. Every time I see you, and when I touch you, this wonderful sensation spreads through me and I just feel this bliss I've never felt before. I've fantasized about you, I've dreamt about you. You and Ginny have always been my friends, and I don't want to hurt either of you, more than I have already done. I feel horrible about what I've done to Ginny, and I can't risk causing you such pain, too. Both of you deserve a guy who can give you things I never could provide.

Voldemort is the main reason my life has been so fucked up for too long, and I've decided that maybe if I'm able to get him out of my life, I'll be able to deal more easily with the other issues. But if I don't come back, which is very likely, I want you to know, Hermione, that I really do care about you and only want what is best for you. Also please tell Ginny that I'm very sorry about what I've done and that I don't want her to be hurt anymore.

I hope to see you again, sweetheart.

Harry

Tears stained certain parts of words, and Hermione clenched the paper in her hand as if it was the only thing that was keeping her alive. Not that she wanted to live anymore. She hadn't even gotten the chance to say good-bye to him, as she had received the note right after Harry had left. She and their other friends had tried everything to look for him, but by then it was too late. No more untidy black hair, which Hermione always secretly thought was cute. No more staring into those beautiful green eyes. No more telling him that he should concentrate more on homework rather than Quidditch. He loved Quidditch so much and was so good at it; he could have been a professional Quidditch player. Harry could have been anything he wanted to be.

Hermione would always remember Harry not by his fame and talents, but by how he was always there for her and the many happy moments they shared. His strength and bravery was remarkable, as though she was intelligent, she was very weak. She could never match half the strength and courage Harry had. It was wrong that she had loved him so much, and she knew she always would. She desperately wished she could take it all back, that their relationship could have just remained the way it had been since that very first year at Hogwarts. Yet there was no denying that in her heart, she truly loved him more than she had ever loved any boy. And once he had been so brutally ripped out of her life, a large part of her heart went with him.

She would never forget the young man who possessed the bravery of the best Aurors, the heart of a lion, and the loyalty and love everyone wants from a friend. Hermione would never meet anyone like Harry Potter.