This is a Harry/Hermione relationship fanfic.

I do not own the rights to any Harry Potter characters though I wish I did. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the Scholastic Publishing Company.

Chapter 1:

A young man sat alone on his bed. He stared at the book in his hands, seeing the words but not absorbing or comprehending them. Instead he brooded in his thoughts, all of which were far, far away from happy. He started to sink into a depression as thoughts of pain, both physical and emotional filled every corner of his brain. He started and cringed when he heard a tap at his window. Looking up he saw a small tawny barn owl sitting on his windowsill. He got up slowly as if it hurt to move and made his way over to the owl. As soon as the window was open the owl flew into his room dropped a letter onto his bed and then flew out again. The young man slowly reached down and picked up the letter which had a seal on the front that he faintly recognized. He opened the flap, dug in and pulled out a large legal sized letter and began to read. The further he read into the letter the angrier he got.

Dear Mr. Harry James Potter,

I regret to inform you that you are required at St. Thomas Hospital in London. Your name has been listed as someone who holds Power of Attorney for one of our patients. Said patient is currently in a coma and cannot make any decisions for themselves. Please come to St. Thomas as soon as possible as you will be needed to make decisions regarding the patients health care. This will include decisions about medicines, treatments and surgeries. So far we have been giving the patient standard medical care but we cannot give them any major care until you sign all of the legal forms that need to be sign. Once again, hurry to St. Thomas. We will be waiting for you.

Sincerely,

Dr. Oliver Twinton

P.S. - I am a squib which would explain how I was able to send this letter to you by owl.

Sadly though, we have no witch or wizard doctors currently employed here. Having a magical doctor would save us time but alas we only have muggle remedies which only seem to be slowing the inevitable.

Harry looked up from the letter, not seeing anything through the film of worry and anxiety that clouded his vision. Who did he know that would put his name down as someone who could make life changing decisions? He mentally ran through a list of all the people that he knew but no one stood out as the kind of person who had that much trust in him. He put the letter into his pocket, picked his wand up from the dresser and headed into the kitchen. It was almost midnight so he wasn't expecting anyone to be awake as he quietly slid open the drawer that held all of the car keys. He had just grabbed the keys to Uncle Vernon's company car when the light suddenly went on. Looking up he saw Uncle Vernon himself standing in the doorway, a look of indignant rage on his face.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're going to do with my car keys?" Uncle Vernon said in a quiet voice that threatened to become louder very quickly.

"I'm going to St. Thomas Hospital," Harry said.

"Not in my car you're not, if you want to go all the way to bloody London then you can take a cab or the Underground."

"I need to get there as fast as possible. I need you're car." Harry was getting very antsy, as he could tell that this was not going the way that he was hoping it would. But then he hadn't had much hope of getting Uncle Vernon to agree to let him use the car in the first place which was why he had been trying to sneak out.

"I'll not have your filthy little body all over my car." Uncle Vernon had shouted that last part and Harry felt that it was time to go whether or not his uncle gave him permission. He turned and started towards the front door. Uncle Vernon grabbed his arm and jerked him back while shouting at Harry. "Give me my fucking keys you insolent little brat." Harry react instinctively, years of being attacked and in danger making him run on auto-pilot. He reached forward and grabbed the first thing that his hand touched. A toaster. He brought his arm around and slammed the toaster into the side of Uncle Vernon's head. His uncle groaned, released his arm and slid down the wall to lie on the floor in a heap.

"Serves you right you bastard," muttered Harry. He ran out the front door, down the walkway and to the car. He got in before he remembered that he had never driven before unless you counted driving games at the local arcade. "Can't be too hard," He thought. "Turn the ignition key, shift into reverse, back out. Alright so far so good. Shift into drive, and don't crash."

Harry made his way to London a little slower than he would have liked, but he didn't want to get stopped for speeding. Also as long as he didn't scratch the car Uncle Vernon probably wouldn't kill him. He reached St. Thomas in a little over an hour and parked the car on a side street a block away. He made is way inside and walked up to the receptionist at the counter.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter. I'm here to see Dr. Twinton."

"Ah…yes," said the receptionist. "Go down that hall way on your left, make a right at the second turn, and his office is the second door on the left."

"Thank you," Harry said politely. He made his way to Dr. Twinton's office without getting lost and knocked on the door. When it opened he saw a stout man of about 50 looking down on him.

"Can I help you?" asked the doctor.

"Yes you can, I'm Harry Potter. You sent me a letter about two hours ago saying that I was required here."

"You're Harry Potter?" The doctor looked flabbergasted and Harry couldn't see why. "But you're so…so young." Said the doc.

'Does that bother you?" Asked Harry.

"A little," admitted Dr. Twinton. "Most of the people I've met who hold Durable Power of Attorney are middle aged and they are usually related to the patient."

"Well, if you are uncomfortable with that, just know that I am very mature for my age."

"Okay then, why don't you follow me.

Dr. Twinton led Harry was down several hallways to the intensive care ward. They came to a stop outside of room 2367. "Before we go in there I want to let you know that the patient is in a coma after receiving blunt force trauma to the head. The patient may or may not reply to you or even acknowledge your presence at all."

"Is that bad?" Harry asked.

"Very bad. When a person is unresponsive to their surroundings it usually means that the brain is swelling so much that it is starting to block of nerve passages that normally function at a very fast rate. When these nerves stop functioning so does the brain. If these nerves are compressed long enough then a person can go into a permanent comatose state."

"English please doctor," said Harry.

"What it means is if we don't operate soon to reduce the swelling, the patient can become a vegetable, meaning comatose with a very low chance of recovery. Or the patient may even die."

"Let's see what we need to do then," said Harry. They walked into the room and Harry wasn't ready for who he saw lying in the bed at all.

"Oh my God, Hermione." Harry rushed to the head of her bed and looked down at her.

He could see a large bruise that covered the whole left side of her face and there was a little bit of blood in her hair. His heart broke when he saw all of the pain that she was in "What the hell happened?" Harry questioned.

"She was mugged out on Chancery Lane. Someone saw it and called the cops and an ambulance. Apparently a group of guys followed her while she was doing some shopping. She turned a corner and they got her. They knocked her down and took her purse, but one of the guys decided to get rough and hit her inn the head with a crowbar. A woman across the street saw what happened and called the ambulance. We were very lucky to get her here as quickly as we did."

"Who would something like this?" Thought Harry as he looked at Hermione lying prone in the bed. He remembered the last time he had seen her like this. Back in second year she had been petrified by a basilisk. Just like then his heart thudded in his chest and emotions he didn't know were possible coursed through his heart. "Do whatever you need to do to save her," he said without looking up.

Dr. Twinton rushed out of the room while calling out what he needed everyone to do.

Before he did though he took a look at the young man and noticed that Mr. Potter was in love and didn't even realize it.

Harry was sitting in the waiting room fretting about what was going on only 50 feet down the hall. He curled his fingers in and dug them into his palm, which he did quite often when he was nervous. Flashes of worry kept running through his mind, but they were constantly interrupted by angry surges of thought. He was thinking about what he would to the men who did this to Hermione if he ever caught them. At the same time though he couldn't help but think that if it was Ron lying in the operating room he probably wouldn't be as torn up about it. Both people were his friends but Hermione meant more to him for some reason, probably the fact that she was a girl and he was just being protective. But what if it's something else, said that little voice in the back of his head. He was pondering this when he heard someone call out his name. Looking up he saw Dr. Twinton standing in front of him. By the look on his face the only news that he would be getting was bad news. "What is it Doc?" Harry both wanted to know and didn't want to know what had happened.

"Mr. Potter, I'm truly sorry to have to tell you that despite our best efforts to save her, we lost Miss Granger about ten minutes ago." The doctor truly did look sorry as he delivered the news to Harry, but instead of pity in the docs' eyes all Harry saw was understanding.

"How did this happen? Why didn't you guys help her, why did she die? "Harry was yelling at Dr. Twinton as tears trickled down his face. "Why didn't you do your job?"

"Mr. Potter, the injuries to Miss Granger's brain were so severe that as soon as we started to operate she went into convulsions. We were able to stop them but when we by the time we did she was fully brain-dead, a few minutes later her heart stopped also. We tried unsuccessfully to revive her but nothing worked. I truly am sorry fir your loss."

Harry turned and started down the hall, not caring where his feet led him, not caring about anything at all except that a part of him was gone forever. Hermione was his best friend; maybe something more said that voice in his head again. Now she was dead, and there was no bringing her back.

"Mr. Potter what do you want us to do with the body?" Dr. Twinton asked as Harry trudged towards the exit.

"Cremate the body and let me know when the ashes can be picked up." Right after he said that something came into his head that he hadn't thought about before. "Why weren't her parents here making the decisions? How come they weren't here when their only daughter died?"

"They are in France at the moment and wouldn't be able to make it back until tomorrow night. They told us to give Attorney to whoever was next on the list." Dr. Twinton looked uncomfortable as he said this.

"You haven't told them that their daughter is dead yet have you?" But Harry already knew the answer.

"I was just going to call them right now, but I stopped to tell you first." Dr. Twinton was shuffling his feet like a little boy who needed to go to the bathroom. "I just hope that they understand that we tried our hardest."

"Pass on my condolences, will you?" Harry said.

"Of course I will."

Harry got back to the Dursleys' house at about nine o'clock that night. He threw Uncle Vernon's keys unto the table and trudged up to his room. It wasn't until his door was closed and he was lying on his bed he finally allowed himself to break down. He cried for what seemed like hours before his tears slowed down and he sat up. She was more than a friend to me he thought to himself and the voice in the back of his head agreed. I loved her didn't I? I loved her and I never let her know how I felt. All those times that we were together alone and I never said anything to her. Why didn't I tell her how I felt before this happened. Harry began to mentally beat himself up as he thought about everything that he could have had, but now would never get a chance to get.

At midnight the door to Harry's room opened and he stepped out the landing. He snuck down the stairs, being careful to jump over the squeaky step. His feet seemed to guide him into the kitchen, where he approached the refrigerator. His hands acted of their own accord and he grabbed a box from the cabinet above the refrigerator. He snuck back to his room just as carefully as he had snuck into the kitchen. Once he was in his room, he set the box down and opened the top. Shakily his hands pulled the metal case out of the box. He opened the lid and removed something that his uncle probably thought he didn't know about. He pulled the gun out and weighed it in his palm as he thought about what he had never said to the one he loved. A song was playing on the radio and it fit the situation exactly. He listened to the words as he picked up a case of bullets.

…..I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm ok
But that's not what gets me…….

Harry picked up a bullet and loaded it into the clip, while at the same times tears loaded themselves into the corners of his eyes.

…..What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin' to do…..

Harry's heart wept as he listened to the words of the song and realized that they fit how he was feeling exactly. Every word of the song struck his heart like a hammer blow.

…..It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I'm doin' It
It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin' with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken…..

Harry picked up the gun and looked at it, the way it glistened in the moon light and how it looked so innocent. This piece of metal was going to be his salvation. This little hunk of steel was going to end the life of the great, all powerful boy who lived. Harry laughed at that thought. Everyone in the world was looking to him as a sort of savior and here he was, about to end it all with his uncles .45 Magnum. The thought of actually pulling the trigger sobered him up a little, but then the song on the radio started to get in his head again and he brought the barrel up to rest against his temple.

…..What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do…..

He slipped his finger around the trigger as the hauntingly striking words of the song wound their way through his ears down his body and into his chest where they settled in his heart. His finger slipped up and flicked off the safety. The lyrics to the song played over and over in his head. And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do………. And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do……. And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do. He tightened his grip on the trigger and thought about all of the people he would be letting down by doing this. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just can't go on anymore without her. To everyone that I'm letting down, I'm sorry." He wrote these thoughts onto a piece of paper which he set onto his nightstand. After making himself comfortable he put the gun back to his head and pulled the trigger.

Author's Note

I'm sorry if anyone got offended by me killing off Hermione and then having Harry commit suicide. But they will be coming back and they will be getting together. I used this chapter to touch up on a very controversial topic, which is Teen Suicide. I will probably use future chapters to talk about issues that most people would be afraid to talk about. Once again I hope that I didn't offend anyone with this story.